Warmth of the Sun
by RuthieBelle
Summary: William and Julia's European sojourn is perfect save for one small detail.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Warmth of the Sun

Author: RuthieBelle

Summary: William and Julia's European sojourn is perfect save for one small detail.

Notes: By request, this is the sequel to Truth and Reconciliation. We don't own MM.

Rating: M

Authors' suggestion & request: Please "Follow" the story so you get notifications when chapters are published and please feel free to post comments/reviews as we go-don't be shy!

* * *

 **Chapter One**

 _ **Rue de la Paix, Deuxième Arrondissement, Paris**_

Back in Toronto, William Murdoch had been in a few locations where he had felt decidedly out of place, but even the finest Toronto home or club had nothing on _l'atelier Doucet_ with its pale gray silk wallpaper, gray velvet divans, and thick wool carpets. Though he accompanied his wife, who was currently trying on gowns in a dressing room, William still felt like an interloper, as though he didn't quite come up to the standards of the establishment.

Of course he also did his best to not think about the cost of a single gown in a place like this, but as they had come here at his own suggestion, he knew he dare not say a word regarding the final tabulations.

Aware that his pacing was making the sales staff nervous, William chose to take a seat on one of the plush divans and fiddled with the brim of his hat which he'd refused to relinquish to the coat-room maid, hoping his wife would not take too long deciding upon a gown. Thankfully, one of the clerks soon brought him a cup of fragrant Earl Grey, served in a white and prussian blue Limoges tea cup with gold accents. While the tea was familiar, the fine porcelain vessel reminded him again that he was not in Toronto. While exercising the utmost care with his cup (although he seriously doubted that the salon would be so gauche as to charge him for breaking it), he wondered again why Julia was insisting upon luxury travel, services and goods so suddenly.

" _Monsieur Murdoch, venez avec moi s'il vous plaît,"_ a young maid beckoned him, and took his tea to hand to another girl, saving him the trouble of awkwardly fumbling for a place to leave it. Following her through cut glass doors from the lounge to the main salon, William's eyes widened as the sight of other ladies reviewing the goods on offer from innumerable dresses, to luxurious accessories piled upon tables, yet organized by color and fabric. She then led him through another set of glass doors and down a quiet and secluded hall where she ushered him into a well-appointed dressing room, complete with settee, where, in front of a three-way full-length mirror stood his bride, looking resplendent in a creation unlike anything else he'd ever seen. She was glowing. William had not seen his wife glowing that way since she had told him they were expecting. William pushed aside that thought. He would do anything to see Julia glow that way again, expense be damned.

"Julia," William smiled fondly at his wife, all nervousness forgotten, "that silk is exquisite. Y _ou_ are exquisite!" he quickly added. "Monsieur Doucet certainly has a way with understanding the physical properties of the material..." He stopped himself from lecturing with a blush. "Um, he's an artist with the draping." Indeed the silk clung to her curves most alluringly. Julia who was always lovely in his eyes, at the moment looked nothing like the no-nonsense Dr. Ogden who ruled over the Toronto City Morgue.

Seeing her this way, all his misgivings evaporated now and he realized that he was actually enjoying this part of their day of shopping in Paris. Earlier, he'd had his own appointment for a new set of bespoke evening clothes which Julia insisted was going to be more stylish than one from London, and which she insisted he acquire. The intrusive measuring and fittings for such a suit were unpleasant, but seeing Julia now in a dazzling, flowing ball gown, created by Jacques Doucet's atelier, wiped all objections he had about spending money on his own outfit: He definitely needed an upgraded wardrobe to look even partially adequate while escorting his wife in such a beautiful, _and daring_ , dress. He was already trying to figure out how to get invited to a ball in Toronto, or even Nice, their next destination in the south of France, just so he could take her, and dance with her for all to see that she was his.

"Are you sure it's not too much?" Julia referred to the dress' bare shoulders and plunging neckline; she did not mean the 'cost' in dollars as she purchased all her own clothing with her own money. She examined herself in the mirror, checking out how attractively the gown dipped in front and in back, how it fitted on her hips. She had to admit that she wore it well as she observed how the light fabric shimmered and shifted as the layers of silk moved across each other, creating multiple colours of blue as she moved. No doubt about it - the dress was truly stunning To add to her excitement, there were almost no alterations going to be needed; which meant, unlike William's new suit which would have to wait until their return trip back through Paris, she could probably have this dress delivered to her later today at their hotel.

Her spirit soared when she looked in the mirror and thought she looked fabulous in it.

Truth be told, Julia was still working at re-building her own confidence. Glancing at her reflection again, she considered the expense. There was no way around it: the price was extortionate, easily costing more than most, if not all of her other gowns combined. But Parisian _haute couture_ didn't come cheap, and seeing as this might be the only time in her life that she might purchase such a gown, she seriously contemplated it. Julia made another coquettish smile in the mirror and twirled around playfully, showing the gown off to her husband.

Julia doubted that William was aware of the look on his face, but the mixture of admiration and lust gave her pause and left little doubt as to what was going through his mind. _No doubt he's already mentally removing it from my body,_ she thought.

William coughed suddenly. "It suits you, Julia. It is modern and looks like it was made for you. I think if you like it you must get it."

"William, have you any idea how much this gown costs? Besides, if I get this I will still need a couple of walking suits, perhaps another dress and something for the beach…"

William's smile overtook his whole face. "I'd be delighted to help pick out the bathing costume then, as well…"

It had been far too long since she'd seen that wide a smile on his face, and putting aside her misgivings about living up to his expectations, she laughed in return:

"When even William Murdoch tells you to buy the dress, cost be damned," she said, "I suppose one should do exactly that!"

* * *

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

 _ **Hôtel de Crillon, Paris**_

Later that evening, William regarded his wife while she mentally reviewed her purchases. Their hotel suite at Hôtel de Crillon overflowed with the bounty of their day's efforts, including the scandalous gown purchased from M. Doucet. She had the dress splayed across the bed to examine the stitching and decorations more closely.

William saw how happy it made her, which made him happy as well. "It really is quite remarkable, Julia; one of a kind just like its owner." He approached her to place a gallant kiss on her hand. "We shall therefore have to secure an appropriate occasion for you to wear it."

It had been cold, gray, and rainy in Paris, while it promised to be unseasonably warm along the Mediterranean, perfect for a couple weeks of rest and intellectual invigoration. "I will be glad to take the train south tomorrow." He flipped through a small notebook of neat printing he pulled from his pocket. "Let's see….we have a small itinerary planned, including two whole days at the _Musée d'Histoire Naturelle_."

"They have a fungus collection that is _non-pareil_ , " Julia reminded him excitedly, coming to stand next to him to look at the list. "I plan to do some investigation on organic poisons while we are there..."

William nodded. "And the zoology and geology collections are first rate; I concur we should make an opportunity for notes for our monographs. I will be examining geological samples for a better understanding and identification of trace evidence." The Nice opera, the theatre and the beach had their attractions, but his mind focused on how much he could learn and apply to police work. "I am also interested in finishing Richard Dixon Oldham's monograph on the geological makeup of the Earth. He wrote a paper analyzing seismic arrival times of various recorded earthquakes and concluded that the earth has a core and estimated its radius to be less than 0.4 times the radius of the Earth! Imagine that..."

"Oh...George will be so disappointed. No 'Mole People'…" she teased. "Must you tell him, William? Does he truly need to know?" Julia asked breathlessly, head playfully tilted.

He knew the glow in her face did not come from the room's golden lamp light, but from within her; to him she looked like she was coming alive again, emerging from their troubles. She was so radiant and relaxed, he could not help but be drawn to her, much like the sun's gravitational field captured a planet. They were so close, her mouth only inches away, and he so wanted to lean in and kiss her, passionately. He closed his eyes, imagining the sweet taste of her…

... William immediately pulled his thoughts back before he allowed his lips to get closer. The moment passed. William let Julia get back to her dresses, hoping his wife was unaware of where his thoughts had almost taken him. He did not wish to disrupt the tentative bond between them, but he promised himself that if she gave him an opening, he'd take it...he just hoped he would not have to wait much longer for that invitation.

William's slumber was disturbed by the barest feather-whisper against his cheek. He had tried to wait up for Julia to come to bed with him, but she had found another article to read, another item to pack, another letter to write. He'd finished his own packing and reading, eventually giving up on being able to have her in his arms this night. He rolled over to avoid the lamp light and after a little adjustment, fell fast asleep...

 _ *****...A twitch of silk against his lashes brought more awareness. Opening his eyes, he beheld moonlight pouring through the windows, illuminating the diaphanous fabric which flowed along Julia's limbs as she came into bed wearing a translucent robe he did not recall her purchasing from M. Doucet. Her lovely, long legs, which never failed to excite him, were back-lit by the moon, offering him the most tantalizing view. His hand grazed her hip, confirming she wore nothing beneath the insubstantial textile.**_

 _ **He breathed in her new French perfume from the House of Guerlain, a delicate combination of violet and orange blossom, and opened the covers to let her settle next to him, enveloping them both in the scent of Spring and its promise of renewal. Sliding his right hand underneath the hem of silk, he stroked up the curve of her calf and over her thigh, Julia's skin proving to be even softer than her gown, getting a throaty murmur of appreciation from her. His heart lifted then raced in anticipation of making love to her, finally, after so many months of abstinence. Just the thought of covering her with kisses, being inside her satiny depths brought him fully alert.**_

 _ **Still, he hesitated, needing to make sure, trying to connect with her eye to eye. Was she making a path for them to follow? An open door for him to go through?**_

" _ **Julia…?"**_

" _ **Shhh, William…" she whispered in his ear, the vibrations propagating directly to his groin. "Whatever are you waiting for…?*****_

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

 _ **+++...Despite it being late November, the Mediterranean evening was warm, and the weather clear, allowing for the sky to display her finest diamonds as the two of them slipped out of the museum, exhausted after an evening of fun, frivolity, dancing, and copious amounts of champagne. Even William had imbibed for once and was rather tipsy alongside her. The evening had been truly magical and as loathe as they were to see it end, they were both eager to return to their hotel to resume activities of a more intimate nature. Hailing a carriage, they immediately found one another once inside.**_

" _ **Why is it that I find this dress extraordinarily beautiful, yet I've been eagerly awaiting all evening for the moment when I can take it off?" William whispered in her ear.**_

 _ **She giggled in response and cupped him through his trousers, eliciting a moan. "Whatever are you waiting for?"**_

" _ **If that's how you're going to play, Mrs. Murdoch, you best watch out," he warned her as he took her mouth in a fervent kiss.**_

 _ **After returning to the hotel, they stumbled up to their room, unable to keep their hands off each other, and as soon as the door closed behind them, William proceeded to do just as he promised, removing her dress, and sliding it down her shoulders and allowing it to pool at her feet … when she suddenly felt a sharp pain in her abdomen.**_

 _ **Confused, he suddenly stopped, looking down. "Julia, you're bleeding. Why?" he asked, stepping back.**_

" _ **I...I don't know William," she answered, looking down at the blood trickling down her legs.**_

" _ **Julia...how could you?" William angrily asked, as his eyes turned cold.**_

" _ **I didn't know I was with child, William. I had no idea. I didn't do anything, I promise," she cried, stepping towards him, seeking his aid and comfort as she suffered another miscarriage.**_

" _ **I don't believe you," he replied, turning away from her and walking to the chest of drawers to remove a few items.**_

" _ **William, please don't do this. Please don't leave me again," she cried, the cramps becoming stronger, causing her to double over in pain.**_

" _ **Julia, I cannot and will not live with a woman so indifferent to her own children that she regards them as inconveniences to be rid of," he answered as he shoved a few belongings into a valise. "I'll ask the hotel for another room and I'll collect the rest of my things tomorrow. Goodbye, Julia," he said as walked out of the room.**_

 _ **Stunned, hurt, and in pain, she collapsed to the floor as the cramps overcame her. Crying, she closed her eyes and hoped that this time, she actually would bleed to death as yet another massive wave of pain overtook her…..+++**_

...Bolting upright in bed and heart racing, Julia looked around her and took a few deep breaths as she realized that she was in Paris, in her room at the Hôtel de Crillon, the bed awash in moonlight as opposed to her blood. A quick glance under the covers confirmed that all was well and what had seemed so real was actually a nightmare and she appeared safe for the time being. Looking to her left, she realized that William was not in bed with her, but as there was a light on in the sitting room, she surmised that William must be reading.

Wordlessly, she sat down on the couch next to him and laid her head on his shoulder, needing to feel his warmth and reassure herself of his presence.

William was aware she was uneasy, guessing she had another nightmare. "Is everything alright, Julia?" he asked, kissing the top of her head.

"It's fine, William. I missed you is all," she answered.

 _Not the whole truth but not a lie either_ , she told herself. "Is everything well with you, William?" she wondered.

He inhaled to give himself a moment to think. _I don't dare tell her the real reason I'm awake!_

"It's fine, just couldn't sleep is all," he answered instead, "I guess I'm excited about our visit to the museum tomorrow."

 _Not a lie, but not the exact truth either about what sort of excitement disturbed my slumber,_ he chided himself. He'd woken up so very disappointed that he was alone on his side of the bed, still aroused by unfulfilled desire.

Sighing, he rubbed his face in frustration and pulled Julia closer. It felt good that she at least wanted him for emotional comfort and he was very glad that she had not woken any sooner to encounter his lust. William had waited seven years from when he'd fallen in love with her, seven years after he first felt a physical attraction, seven long years before he'd been able to consummate their relationship; he was a man who knew what he wanted and knew how to wait for it.

He found some confidence, deep inside.

 _Julia is all I ever wanted and her love means more to me than anything. Her love is worth the wait._

* * *

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

 _ **Nice, Côte d'Azur**_

William collected their trunks at the train station in Nice after a long, tiring journey from Paris, no matter, the trip was spent in the epitome of luxury. The city rose from a flat pebble beach into gently rising hills, surrounded by mountains of the Ligurian Alps range. Going south increased the ambient temperature and dried out the weather, so much so, that they took advantage of the still air to take an open carriage from the station to their hotel which was situated in the hills above the the old port city, overlooking the bay. A full moon highlighted typical Mediterranean vegetation and outlined the buildings as their carriage carried him and Julia through town. Once in their rooms, William opened the paired windows, bringing a breath of the sea inside.

"The locals think this is sweater and scarf season," Julia observed as she removed her travelling wrap and handed it to her husband.

"At sixty degrees tonight, this is a particularly balmy November for us Torontonians; in fact, the concierge told me it was in the high seventies yesterday. That bathing costume might get used after all." William teased, but instead of getting a giggle, she merely sighed. He took her hand, giving a little squeeze. "It is late, and we planned to be at the opening of the museum tomorrow. So perhaps it is time to retire?"

Julia slipped her hand away. "You go on, William. I want to freshen up a bit...alone, if you don't mind…" she said to forestall any offer to join her.

Slipping into the bathroom, Julia undressed herself and stood nude in front of the mirror, looking at her reflection, wondering not for the first time what it was that her husband saw in her...what it was that he found desirable in her...what it was that kept him from having sought another when the man could have had any woman in Toronto. He still could, she scoffed at herself.

Sighing, she drew a bath and poured a liberal amount of jasmine bath oil into the water before she remembered that William loved that scent. Exhausted, Julia drained the bath, opting to enjoy the water unscented instead. She had to be careful not to arouse his passions any more than they already were...what the hell had she been thinking purchasing that ridiculous gown in Paris? She was a fool. Now it was guaranteed that he would see the first night she wore it as an invitation to resume relations. Hadn't he mentioned more than once that they needed to find an opportunity for her to wear it? He was signaling his intentions and rather than be excited by it as she once would have, it made her rather anxious..

Sinking her travel-weary body into the large tub, she felt her muscles relax as she contemplated how William would perceive her refusing him her affections. Would he wonder if she now found him repellant? Knowing William, he would accept the situation, but not before another unfathomably terrible exchange.

Sinking lower into the tub, she grabbed a towel to muffle her cries so she didn't alert William to her distress. He would never understand.

 _How can he when I don't even understand myself?_

The Mediterranean flowed all around him, giving William physical resistance to work through as he stroked underneath the gentle salt waves. Just being here on a shale and pebble beach reminded him so much of the little northern village he grew up in, even if it was a world and forty-odd years away, prompting a new regard for swimming, especially after his more recent sedentary pursuits. A part of him reveled in it, which surprised him: when he left home with Susannah to move in with their Aunt he had never looked back to the ocean, and in fact had not really seen and appreciated the Atlantic again until visiting Newfoundland with George. There had been no pull of the sea for him. Living four hundred miles inland and having Lake Ontario to enjoy a few times a year suited him quite nicely.

As he swam he considered his situation: Julia was affectionate, attentive and amusing, while still maintaining a distance from him as far as intimate relations were concerned. She came across as uncharacteristically shy and self-conscious, at the same time she seemed happy to cater to his every whim. He struggled with understanding this as his arms and legs sliced through the water. The past few days with Julia felt so easy and natural at times he could forget they were not at home on Toronto working out a challenging problem in a murder investigation but it also meant that their intellectual stimulation (which usually led to sexual ignition) had nowhere to go. They had not had relations now in almost four months, so he was becoming somewhat of an expert in diverting his energies elsewhere.

His only conclusion was that the trust between them was not yet strong enough for her to let go in his arms and give herself to him fully again, but if that was so, why did she seem to be almost courting him? _Does she think I will reject her?_ It was all too baffling.

He needed exercise to clear his mind, and perhaps, unconsciously, the cold of the water to quench his body's need for release.

Lying on the beach, Julia adjusted the umbrella on her chair so that the shifting sun would not burn her skin or create more freckles. The weather remained warm enough for sunbathing in the afternoons, so after long days of study in the collections of the _Muséum d'histoire naturelle de Nice_ , some fresh air was just what the doctor ordered. She recalled how much fun the two of them had had, showing off their discoveries or discussing new avenues of investigation. William's depth and breadth of scientific curiosity and knowledge always impressed her and this had been no exception. Nonetheless, William had been very pleased to take a break with her, especially since she'd been persuaded to don her bathing costume.

Staring down at her legs she contemplated another time at the beach when she had boldly removed her stockings, noting that she had mostly done so to shock William more than anything. Smiling, she set her journal aside, and admired the expanse of azure water before her and watched the frivolity of those hardy souls who played in the surf with no small amount of envy.

Glancing at a well-toned figure coming out of the water, there was no doubt that it was William, oblivious to the attention he was drawing to himself. Smiling with pride, she noted a few scowling faces as he walked her way, plopping himself down in the chair beside her.

Just to bask in their envy even more, Julia leaned over and kissed him, tasting his lips, warm and salty. Enjoying the feeling of his eyelashes against her own, she leaned in and kissed him again, savoring the experience even more as she forgot herself for a moment.

"The water wasn't too cold I take it?" Julia asked, gesturing towards his body.

"A bit on the cool side, but still not as cold as the water l learned to swim in, in Nova Scotia, or for that matter the hold of a sinking ship on Lake Ontario in the spring," he admitted with a chuckle.

"You're just trying to get me out there, William," she teased, running her hand along his forearm, mentally noting his musculature.

"I can't deny that perhaps I have ulterior motives," he laughed, stroking her own cheek in return and kissing her again before gesturing towards her journal, giving her space. "You're reading _Popular Science_ , I see. It would seem I'm rubbing off on you. Anything of interest in there?" he smiled, looking up at her through his eyelashes.

"Yes, actually. There's an article about hypnotism and its possible uses in medicine," she replied, handing the magazine back to him. "You may read it, William. I think I would just like to enjoy the sun for a while, she replied with a smile.

Laying back in her chair, she contemplated their most recent exchange and closed her eyes, luxuriating in the winter sun. Soon, her thoughts turned to William and she day-dreamed about how much more scandalous they could have been out in the water, imagining how his hands would feel on her skin as he pulled her close, fitting their bodies together, limbs entwined, bobbing with the waves as one while unmindful about the consternation they were causing on land. After a few moments of fantasizing, she was brought back to reality as William shifted in his own chair beside her. Sighing deeply, she rubbed her brow and reflected upon their current situation. Julia knew something held her back from throwing herself into William's arms...It kept her up at night in agitation and woke her up early with disturbing dreams which evaded her memory no matter how she strained to recall them.

That something was becoming clearer and clearer, despite her attempts at talking herself out of her own conclusion, once she had time and the ability to think about it rationally. Simple addition and a calendar revealed an astonishing idea:

 _It is entirely possible that I became pregnant before starting Miss Clark's hormone treatments._

 **.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.**

 **A/N: Hi-welcome back! Betcha didn't see** _ **that**_ **coming!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

 _ **Casino de Monte-Carlo, Monaco**_

"William, really! I cannot believe that you found a way to cheat..." Julia gasped as they slid out of the elegant _Trente-et-Quarante_ Gaming Room under the watchful eye of the casino's ever-so-discreet management. She accepted her wrap from the stern-faced man, and folded the embroidered silk over her claret-colored velvet dress. Two weeks in Nice had been convivial and relaxing. The weather had cooperated by staying mild, allowing them to enjoy the fresh air and walk everywhere. The opera, the art, the library, exploring the natural history museum for three whole days, not two, then hiking the hills...all of it had been marvelous.

Even better, each of them had a full outline of the papers they intended to write, plus Julia agreed to William's concept for for a comprehensive forensic reference manual for police work for them to write together. He'd planted the germ of the undertaking after uncovering bodies on their property, and when he proposed it again over dinner of _Coquille St. Jacques_ five nights ago, the whole idea fell into place. She had not been certain about returning to the morgue in the future, something she had not really discussed with him. Whether or not she returned to her role as a pathologist, collaborating professionally with William was not something she wanted to give up, so having a project for her and William to collaborate on settled something into place for her.

Julia had been feeling lighter and more carefree with each passing day.

At the same time, William had become a little restless with no puzzle for his mind to solve. He'd tried to hide it, of course, but when he was been tempted to solve the disappearance of a Russian Countess's missing Borzoi hound, she had recommended a brief trip to the principality of Monaco before returning to Paris and heading home. He'd been more than willing for a change of venue, especially since His Serene Highness, Prince Albert of Monaco, was an accomplished scientist and adventurer who just established an Oceanographic Institute. Ever since William had cobbled up the echo-location Graphizer to find a sunken ship in Lake Ontario, he'd had his fascination with undersea exploration revived, leading to him hint at wishing to meet the Prince to discuss scientific matters, so a trip to Monaco was not hard for her to sell him on.

She laughed to herself as they walked away from the Casino, allowing a giggle to escape. Julia had anticipated William was going to be satisfied with scientific engagements during the day and she'd be the one to experience the excitement of wagering at night, with William patiently indulging her. Instead he'd made his handsome self the center of attention at one of the tables by steadily accumulating winnings, and the notice of several ladies.

"…And I can't believe they asked us to leave," William complained, "and I certainly did _not_ cheat, as evidenced by the fact that I was allowed to keep the profits; profits that I won. _Legally._ "

"I never knew William Murdoch was the gambling kind…" she could not resist teasing as it helped moderate a little of her jealousy.

"I do not think of it as gambling at all," he slid his gaze towards her in mock-affront as he made a dismissive gesture. "I prefer to think of it as shrewd study before wagering. You did not expect me to play without knowing the game, did you? I merely applied simple probability mathematics, involving basic addition and subtraction to the 312 cards. One must only have a good memory, the ability to maintain concentration, and be facile at performing calculations." William defended as they walked briskly back to their hotel. "Besides, what I did was perfectly legal," he added.

She couldn't really tell if he was grumpy about being asked to take his money and leave or secretly smug. "Your prodigious memory has its benefits. But don't you know that the house always wins, William? And when they don't, they don't take too kindly to it," she informed him with a laugh. "On the other hand, your winnings have rather handsomely covered our expenses. I was supposed to be indulging you, this trip. It now stands to reason that you're spoiling me," she laughed.

Stopping to look at her with a glint in his eye, he walked her to a tree hidden in shadows. "Speaking of winning," he murmured, pressing her body against the tree, he took her lips in his, nervous that Julia would rebuff him, yet feeling supremely confident after the evening he had just had. He simply couldn't help himself.

Julia kissed back…the excitement of the evening sweeping her up in the moment. His lips were warm and she nearly melted from the heat; to renew their physical relationship would be a wonderful end to a night such as this, and as William nibbled along her neck, she contemplated throwing caution to the wind.

Fear immediately put an end to that, with her racing heart shifting from arousal to trepidation...laced with a tinge of guilt.

"William, we must get back to the hotel and sleep if we're to get up early for my next surprise for you," she murmured into his ear while gently turning out of his grasp.

Exhaling sharply, he pulled back like a gentleman. "Another surprise?" he asked, quickly masking disappointment. "I thought we were going back to Nice then on to Paris tomorrow."

"I took notice of how you lit up when you read about the Leonardo da Vinci exhibit in Florence. William, think of it!" she enthused. "The _Uffizi_ , the Academy, Brunelleschi's Dome, and of course, then on to Rome...we can't go to Italy without going to Rome," she told him, eager to further distract him from amorous thoughts.

William's imagination went immediately to how amazing it would be to be in the presence of Leonardo da Vinci's original drawings, or see _ll duomo_ \- a feat of remarkable engineering; the opportunity to visit Rome just bowled him over. "Julia, this is wonderful, but how…?"

He stopped himself from finishing the thought: _How can we stay away from Toronto any longer..?_

William felt they were fundamentally getting along so very well, that her ambivalence towards him made no sense to him. She'd been bright and vivacious, full of her odd sense of humour, almost back to her old self again, except she still felt the need for... what? His approval? Was Julia avoiding deeper issues? Was she bribing him? To what end? If he were to guess, he'd say she was insecure, despite his efforts to show her how much he cherished and desired her. It seemed to him she still did not trust him, the thought of which brought a fresh wave of guilt to the surface.

He'd promised he'd follow her anywhere, literally, when, as they stood in their suite in the Windsor, he told her they'd get another ticket and travel to whatever unknown destination she desired. Neither of them discussed what sort of future awaited their return to Canada. For William, leaving Toronto was an act of faith, and act of surrender to the truth of it: Julia Ogden was his whole world.

 _Julia is going overboard now_ , he fretted...What he did not understand was, _why?_ He looked carefully at her expectant face. Underneath the smile he detected a strain in her. "Julia, you do seem determined to spoil me of late. I appreciate that, truly..but..."

 _What do I need to do to reassure her?_

"...Are you harbouring a concern I should know about?" He tried to express his question casually, as if it was a toss-away or tease, holding his anxiety back.

Julia looked away guiltily. _Of course he knows there's something! The man's not stupid!_ "Why, no William. Of course not. I suppose I am just not ready yet to resume my life in Toronto."

William laced his fingers with hers as they walked, giving her an "hmmm, hmmm" while he tried to think of the right response. ' _My life in Toronto.'_ Julia mentioning her reluctance about home brought up what was waiting for her there, the contours of which were uncertain.

' _My work as a psychiatrist brought me great satisfaction',_ she had told him earlier in the week while tossing ideas around for their possible book. ' _The women's clinic...Even my time in Buffalo was professionally stimulating, caring for the children there. I just don't know I want to be a companion to the dead any more, with my deepest connection to people being when my hands are in their visceral organs.'_ He could still hear the way she said that. She let him know that ten years, ' _mired in death'_ , as she put it, was more than enough.

All of that meant it was less and less likely the two of them would be professional colleagues in the future. William acknowledged a growing sadness he found within himself anticipating such a change, something he vowed to keep mum about. On the plus side, since finding inspiration in possibly writing a book together, she was leaning more and more towards her role as a teacher. He told himself that a happy Julia was in his own best interest and if she needed a change, then that's what needed to happen and he'd support her, always.

More troubling however, was the unspoken double meaning in her answer: ' _My life in Toronto',_ since life in Toronto consisted not only of her occupation, but also of her marriage.

 **Their** marriage.

Their _**whole**_ marriage...

He slowed down their pace to a stroll, wanting more time to answer her, not knowing how to delicately get her to level with him without risking their hard-won rapprochement shattering apart. Just as he took in a breath to try and apologize again, she danced out in front of him.

"And, of course, you know I have not yet worn my new ball gown," she added with a twirl of her skirts, holding his hand in hers. "Let me have my fun, William. Indulge me. I know you want to, I saw it on your face. Once we are back in Toronto, whenever will we have an opportunity such as this?"

William knew he could not resist. If she needed time, if she needed more from him he would not deny her. Burying his misgivings, William smiled warmly at his bride.

"Florence then Rome it is!" he declared with a careless flourish.

* * *

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

 _ **Chiesa di Santa Maria del Carmine, Firenze, Italia**_

Two figures, pain and sorrow written deeply on their sobbing faces and tortured poses. Their punishment was loss of everything which had gone before, the penalty imposed for disobedience, for coming to know Good from Evil. Divine rays pricked their backs and an angel's sword guarded against any attempt at returning through the gates to Paradise.

 _Desperation._

 _Guilt._

 _Shame._

These emotions were clearly depicted in every line and gesture of the fresco which captured William's complete attention. Masaccio's _Expulsion from The Garden_ in the Brancacci Chapel might be obscured under a layer of soot, 17th century censorship, and the cumulative effects of time, yet the compelling passion and power of artist's vision was impossible not to feel. Impossible as well to escape feeling small and unworthy standing below the image high upon the wall.

William felt completely off balance in its presence. _Which was probably the point,_ he told himself.

They had arrived in Florence without incident, marveling at the beauty of the city while walking down old cobblestone streets, free of any fussiness or pretensions. Their first stop after their hotel had been the Leonardo da Vinci exhibit. The whole presentation had been beyond amazing, everything and more that the exhibitors promised. The sheer genius of the man was evident in the displays of his papers, drawings for inventions and studies for paintings which William got to pour over, uninterrupted, for two and a half glorious days. A model maker recreated extraordinary three-dimensional representations of some of the devices as well, delighting William's eye and imagination. He'd been there first in line when the doors opened and was last to leave, scraping an acquaintance with one of the curators to get extra time to exercise curiosity over the ingeniousness of the master's works.

 _Museo dell'Opera del Duomo_ , Michelangelo's _Pieta_ , the _Gates of Paradise_... these had been exceptionally powerful and uplifting visits they both enjoyed as well. He indulged her in a tour of the Florence Medical School in the Careggi district, _Istituto di Studi Pratici e di Perfezionamento,_ and the _Museo di Storia Naturale di Firenze_ , while compiling more ideas about their joint publishing venture.

Being that Florence was a well-traveled city, an English-speaking priest was available and thus William had taken the opportunity to make confession yesterday. Coming to the church with him today, Sunday, had been Julia's suggestion, so after Mass the two of them made a point of examining the chapel's artwork before adjourning to luncheon. At the moment her back was towards him while she was absorbed by the _Healing of the Cripple_ on the right-hand wall.

William remained mesmerized at the foot of Masaccio's fresco, the serenity of the church service and his excitement over da Vinci's works all but forgotten with this reminder of his own sin. As he was already feeling penitent, he sat down in a quiet pew away from the small crowds of tourists in the chapel and waited for Julia to join him. After a few moments, she did with an amused turn on her lips.

"The work in here is certainly quite provocative, isn't it?" she teased, taking his hand in one of hers and indicating the nude figures with her other. "I see they covered up the most titillating bits...a true crime against the artist don't you think? And you once supposed Torontonians would be scandalized by my bare calves at the beach. How provincial!" She lowered her voice in mock-outrage. "I expect I will see even more naked flesh before we are done with the _Uffizi_."

"Yes…umm, provocative. It certainly is, Julia," he began, fumbling for the correct words that always seemed to elude him when it came to her. In this case he thought it might be preferable to keep his own counsel. He reached for his hat so they could leave, not wishing to let his disquiet dampen her spirits.

"You seem rather sour, William. Are you not looking forward to our Chef Signor Carlo's re-boiled soup or cannellini beans with meat ball to break your fast? I don't know why you dislike the food here, I think it is quite delightful. Simple ingredients- even I could make a meal out of it with little problem," Julia's gay mood was wavering as her stomach growled since she'd had only a light breakfast herself while William had abstained in order to take communion. Sensing that her husband was struggling with something, which meant that he was uncomfortable with his thoughts, she stiffened and sat up straighter in her seat, attempting to withdraw her hand as he held onto it.

 _He'd been so happy the last few days, why does he have to spoil it now?_

William registered Julia's displeasure while he stood; annoyed with himself that he'd displayed anything about his inner turmoil.

"What is on your mind then, William?" Julia sighed at his pinched face, pushing him to get it out and over with. "I take it is not about Italian cuisine."

He held back a groan. Just like Adam and Eve, punishment for his own transgressions against God and his wife were not undeserved.

He hesitated, then looked around to gauge how much privacy there was to be had, then pointed at the chapel wall. He helped her rise and walked her over to the fresco, drawing her over to stand beside him. "So tell me, Dr. Ogden, when will I learn better than to insist upon the whole truth, heedless of the cost to myself or others?" he tried to joke, but it came out as more of a lament. "God did not trust Adam and Eve any more, which is actually why they were banished, not for merely eating the apple."

Glimpsing the pain upon his face, Julia was stunned into silence.

He found himself looking again at the frescoes' blonde-haired angel presiding over Adam and Eve's banishment, finger pointing them away from the gates of Eden, just as Julia had gestured when she ordered him from their rooms. "Julia, I know that mere words will never repair the hurt I caused when I left you that night to face everything alone. I lost my temper. I spoke cruelly. There is no excuse for what I did or what I said, but I am so sorry," he murmured, looking at her earnestly.

When she did not comment he pressed on. "Seeing Masaccio's version of the _Fall_ made me think of my own sin, my anger towards you, and how it stemmed from my need to know the absolute truth, how I thought you were deceiving me...yet another error on my part," he deferred, holding up his hand. "I said terrible things at the worst possible time. This painting made me think deeply about how I was almost exiled from my own Eden, my sinful anger in the guise of my pride and hurt...that I foolishly took out on you…and others…"

William's voice was hoarse. "I only hope that someday you will be able to trust me, forgive me...I don't want those things to push us apart again." He would have liked to go on, but ran out of words, then bent his head in defeat, upset because he'd promised himself not to ask for forgiveness. _Forgiveness is a gift only she can bestow, not something to clear my conscience._

Julia swallowed uncomfortably as the realization hit her like a thunderbolt. _He thinks that I don't yet trust him! How do I even begin to explain what's really troubling me...in a church, no less!_

She could not look at him while she spoke, instead considering the image which had so disturbed him…It was indeed a masterwork of emotion. Julia tried to make her own voice sound emotionless. "Well, that's just it, isn't it William? Abortion has always been the most contentious issue between us. I view it as something to relieve an untenable situation. You view it as abomination, and no, I don't ever expect for us to agree on the issue." She sidestepped the issue of forgiveness. "But I do wonder why you never arrested Isaac Tash and even me all those years ago. Why, William?"

He took his time answering, catching her eyes with his. "Because I imagined that poor girl bleeding to death all alone, only to be discarded like refuse, and that knew a safe abortion was better than that tragedy. I suppose I also felt I owed him for saving your life; I am still so very grateful for that…" He closed his eyes for a second then looked steadily into her blue gaze. "I have moral and ethical reservations about abortion, and it is illegal on top of that, but no, I don't actually believe the woman or her doctor should face the noose because of it in all cases. I do believe in shades of gray, as it were," he nodded towards the faded painting.

It was not lost on William that, standing there, he and Julia mirrored Adam and Eve. It was about both knowledge and trust, after all, which proved their own near-undoing; he was not oblivious to that either, much to his shame.

Julia found herself focused completely on William's extraordinary statement. She was not sure she had ever heard him say so much about himself or his feelings ever before and her pulse raced, waiting for where he was going with his sentiments.

"I know I need to gain your trust back before we resume the full enjoyment of our relationship," he whispered, gesturing between them. "I am prepared to wait for as long as is necessary, and I want to say again that your love means everything to me," he added, bringing her hand up to his lips to kiss. "I love you so, Julia Ogden."

She heard plain truth in his words. Overcome at his statement, Julia blinked back tears. "And I love you, William Murdoch," she promised in return, pulling him closer. "Dearest William, please know that it is not a lack of faith, I trust you implicitly. I just need more time she replied." Squeezing his hand, she laid her head on his shoulder, relaxing in his warmth and presence.

Until reality seeped back in.

…. _Not exactly a lie_ , she told her guilty conscience with an inner shrug. And it wasn't a lie. She needed more time because she just didn't know how to broach such a difficult topic with him...especially under the gaze of saints and martyrs, even though she knew that was a ridiculous superstition. Superstition or not, she needed more time to figure out what to do, because it was not only that she was not ready to make love with William...

 _If he was incensed that I had indirect knowledge about terminating another wife's unwanted pregnancy, how is he going to react to the knowledge that his own wife wants to employ precautions in preventing a deeply desired one within his own marriage?_

William, for his part, felt a leap of happiness inside since he and Julia seldom exchanged declarations of affection, and a flicker of hope that things were turning around. _She said she trusted me and all she needed was more time._..that relieved a great deal of anxiety and squared with his hunches about her need for healing. His mind was clearer and step lighter while they made their way back to their lodgings. He was even willing to try the suspicious ball of ground meat in tomato sauce if that was the meal Julia wanted.

After luncheon they took a carriage to the _Academia_ where for a couple hours the pair strolled from room to room, eventually ending up by Michelangelo's _David,_ just before closing.

"Magnificent! " Julia was enthralled. "I see why the bronze castings have been used by private lady teachers for the instruction of young female students." Her sly comment getting the rise out of her husband she hoped for, she upped the ante. "Our governess was not inclined to indulge us, but our mother did take me and Ruby to the finest galleries and museums as part of our education, and for more than art appreciation," she laughed delightedly with a wave of her hand towards _David_. "However, the diminutive genitalia here might lead to some uncertain comparisons."

William coughed. "Indeed. The ideal form was of a youth, so…"

"Oh rubbish! There is nothing 'youthful' in the rest of _David's_ physique. I imagine it was to make sure no one's lover felt inadequate." Julia's laughing turned a few heads their way. Sensing his embarrassment and seizing an opportunity to lighten the mood from earlier, she decided to shock him further. "I dare say, _David_ has nothing on you at all in that department, William," she teased, reveling in his embarrassment as red flushed his cheeks and he looked around to see who might have heard.

"Julia!" he admonished, a wide grin across his face. Pulling her towards him, he boldly kissed the tip of her nose, holding onto her hand. He was clearly pleased as well, and Julia delighted in bringing this state to his countenance.

After a few moments had passed, William glanced at her with a twinkle in his eye. "Stand therefore, having girded your loins with truth, and having put on the breastplate of righteousness, and having shod your feet with the equipment of the gospel of peace…" William recited.

"...Besides all these, taking the shield of faith, with which you can quench all the flaming darts of the devil…." Julia continued.

"...And take the helmet of salvation, and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God.' Ephesians 6:14," William finished. "The Biblical David only needed the protection of God…" he smiled. "No garments."

Julia tisked. "Well, tell that to our late Queen who required a fig leaf half a yard high to shield her feminine delicacy from _David's_ undersized manhood. For heaven's sake! She had _nine_ children...one might imagine..."

He coughed again, trying not to choke on laughter. "Ahem...the sculpture was supposed to be high off the ground on the roof of a building where no one would see the, um, anatomical representation. He only wore a gilded loincloth for the sake of not shocking the population in Florence when they decided to install it at ground level..."

"What? Not Florence! This is the city that gave birth to all these masterpieces, and you mean to tell me that they only just suddenly developed easily offended sensibilities?" she asked.

William shrugged, then gave her a sideways glance. "Times change, tastes change. I am sure there will be more opportunities for you to make some professional comparisons…" He dodged her playful fist, getting a stern look from the museum's guard who was not amused by their high spirits. "Julia, they are about to throw us out. Come, I will get us a carriage. Tomorrow the _Uffizi._ " He led her out of the building and into the start of a rain storm.

William's spirits were high, for although she did not say she forgave him in so many words, he must have finally communicated some of the right things because Julia was warm and relaxed with him. All she asked for was time, and in a city that was nearly 2,000 years old, time seemed to take on a new perspective. He bundled her next to him for the journey back to their hotel full of confidence.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

 **Tuesday Afternoon**

 _ **Piazalle degli Uffizi, Firenze**_

While William was clearly content to observe the proto-Renaissance, heavily religious works of the 13th and 14th centuries, Julia was more anxious to get to the more humanistic, classically inspired, and relatively modern masterpieces of Botticelli in another part of the museum. She was therefore content to observe the paintings in a more targeted manner, viewing the remarkable works of Giotto as an iconoclastic effort in establishing an approach to painting that observed a more three dimensional, realistic appearance to his art as opposed to the two- dimensional representation favored by Medieval artists.

Once she entered the part of the museum that focused on the 15th and 16th centuries, she found herself sighing in relief, moving through rooms of the museum that represented the true meaning of the word Renaissance: rebirth or reawakening. Here, most of the art was truly refreshing, a welcoming respite from the relentless religiousness of the medieval period. Though they lived hundreds of years before her, the subjects here were relatable to her, portraits of prominent and prosperous citizens as well as Renaissance interpretations of classical themes- unlike the art in the previous rooms.

As Julia gazed upon the portraits of nobles and wealthy businessmen from that era, she couldn't help but envy what a remarkable and exciting time they had lived in, before remembering that William would tell her that the twentieth century was just as remarkable and exciting. She turned around to say as much to him, but found he was deep in discussion with one of the curators. She decided this freed her to explore on her own which utterly delighted her. Catalogue in hand, she sought out _Flora_ by way of the sculpture hall with its fine marbles of male figures.

* * *

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

A while later, William found Julia enraptured by Botticelli's _La Primavera_ , her brow furrowed and a slight scowl on her face while her eyes twinkled.

"If I didn't know better, it would seem you are conflicted about this painting," William joked.

"Yes, well, it's certainly a delightful work, but it is perplexing at the same time," Julia answered, looking at him with a slight smile.

"How so?" he wondered. His knowledge of Roman mythology was quite passable, but he was curious as to what had his wife so conflicted.

"Well, look at Zephyrus, chasing down Chloris and forcing himself upon her. Yes, she does become Flora, the Roman goddess of Spring, but is this what she wanted? Why wasn't she able to choose? Why was greatness bestowed upon her? Why couldn't she achieve it herself?" she gesticulated towards the painting. "It is a splendid piece, though," she added, laughing at William's own raised eyebrow.

"It is quite beautiful and intriguing, I must admit," he agreed. "What are your thoughts on this painting," gesturing towards _The Birth of Venus_ , "Venus is the focal point, even if she is, well…"

"Even if she is completely nude?" she finished.

"Well, she was just born, Julia. Really, as a physician I would have thought you would know that," William jibed.

"I am aware, William. However, most of us aren't born fully developed adults either," she retorted, rolling her eyes with a chuckle. "Still, Botticelli does seem to have appreciated women in a multitude of ways."

"Yes, it seems that that he was a devotee of the female form as women were the central subjects in his work and not only are they the primary focus, they are the most intriguing aspect as well," he added. "Then there is Titian's _Venus of Urbino_."

"Yes, unlike many of the other paintings," she muttered, as they walked into the next room that featured more works of da Vinci that William had not yet seen.

"I thought you were quite a fan of art, Julia. What seems to be bothering you?" he questioned, as he led her to a bench in front of da Vinci's _Annunciation_.

"At least Titian or Botticelli paint women other than the Virgin Mary...for one of the greatest museums in the world, it seems that the accomplishments of only one particular woman are noteworthy," she grumbled, gesturing around.

William smiled, remembering similar complaints about the lack of feminine variation voiced by some of his schoolmates at St. Ignatius, most of whom had never seen a portrait of a woman other than Mary, and even that having been primarily in their hometown churches. The lads at boarding school were mostly too poor to have had any exposure to art, which is why the teachers used what was available to intrigue their young minds. "Julia," he answered. "You made the same comment about the stained glass in Church on Sunday." He supposed the schoolboys' complaints differed from hers. "You are aware that when much of this art was created, the average person could neither read nor write. Visual representations were how important Bible stories were told."

He gestured at the _Annunciation_. "Subject matter aside, this is Leonardo da Vinci's journeyman effort when he was barely twenty, working out of Verrocchio's studio. Look at the light strokes in the angel, the use of perspective bisecting the painting which forces the figures into the foreground." He saw Julia was not mollified. "The painting even has Mary reading, certainly a message about educating woman."

"Oh, William...you sound exactly like my old art history lecturer, who was barely five feet tall including her tight grey bun, so I think you are just reciting what you remember from a dry secondary school class," Julia guessed with a dash of petulance. When William blushed she was satisfied her guess had hit close to home. "Apparently the only woman of note according to these great men was Mary Mother of God and only for her ability to bear a child."

Julia felt herself lapsing into a sour mood, remembering. The unsettling subject matter so clearly favored by early Renaissance artists and patrons had proved to be too much.

William's understanding jarred him. He took her hand and patted it, the both of them staring at the _Annunciation_ in silence. "Julia...I...imagine... that rather numerous depictions of mother and child are ...difficult…" he began. He'd felt a certain longing himself at all the Madonna and Child portraits.

Julia's grip clenched; the pain of what she herself had endured was just too fresh. "Either the happy Mary and her newborn son or his dead body in her sorrowful arms. I found the crucifixion and martyr scenes did little to uplift my mood." She surprised herself with her bitter tone.

"I am sorry," he said simply. William sat quietly beside her, trying to figure out how to comfort her. He was about to offer another defense of the art, or the Church, then caught himself. Before he could compose anything in his head that would be consoling, Julia launched herself off the bench and over to another painting, planting herself squarely in front of it.

 _William's floundering is not helping and I refuse to feel sorry for myself._ She took a breath to steady her nerves, pointing to a canvas full of colour and movement. "This one however…"

" _Judith Slaying Holofernes_?" William named the painting with its baroque dark background and highlighted foreground.

Julia examined the two women holding their victim down while avoiding arterial spray as they sliced his head off with a blade. "I do admire a woman of action, however Biblical women other than Mary are a rather blood thirsty lot."

"There are three of the same story in this museum," he narrated automatically. "Julia, are you all…?"

"Tell me William, which did you prefer?" Julia was not prepared to talk about her feelings, not quite yet. "The Teutonic-looking _Judith_ by Jacopo Palma the Elder, or Ruben's lady with her breast revealed, hmmm?" Her husband, she noted, had been remarkably blasé about the quantity of female flesh on the walls and lining the halls of the _Uffizi_ ; she thought he had in fact been more uncomfortable with the male nudes. She was hoping to distract him from asking how she was.

William understood he was being led away from pressing her, so he went along. "As to which Judith? I prefer this one by Artemisia Gentileschi; a woman painter presenting a female heroine. One is drawn to the areas of intense red, blue and ocher fabric anchoring the violence of the arms and sword."

He heard himself lecturing again and sighed, needing to draw her out more. For a moment William had an uncomfortable sensation in the pit of his stomach, somehow relating these avenging women to Julia's past with Harlan Orgill and Eva Pearce. He stopped himself from delving any further, choosing his own distraction instead. "What did you find most interesting? I lost sight of you."

Julia moved a few feet down, away from Judith, changing the subject, which confirmed William's instinct.

She asked: "You appeared to be sidetracked by one of the curators so I moved on. What intrigued you so?"

"I was discussing how to use new technology to examine the art, painting and sculptures in a way that does not harm them. What do you think about the idea of using Röntgen's x-rays? You remember how we did that with a counterfeit dinosaur bone and with that fake Madonna statue? He and I speculated about the application to art conservation, differentiating original from copies, or counterfeits for instance; some painters use lead-based paint and some did not. …"

"William!" she laughed, her odd mood temporarily forgotten. "Only you could get distracted by science in an entire building filled with art!"

He gave a rueful chuckle. "I suppose you are correct. We should get going, as it is nearly four o'clock and time for closing. Walk with me, and tell me what works drew a reaction from you, or which you most appreciated."

Julia took his arm as they retraced their steps to the entrance, deciding what she wanted to share with him. Grinning, she turned to him. "Actually, I rather enjoyed some of the male nudes. What spectacular specimens, even if they were 'young' men. In fact, it made me wonder what you may have looked like in the nude as a youth." She ran her eyes over his figure speculatively.

Laughing at her cheekiness, he shook his head, refusing to rise to the gambit this time. "I'll have you know that I was a chaste young man, and I have not posed for any artists-although I was approached, I'll have you know," he replied with a grin of his own, relieved Julia seemed more relaxed.

"Do tell! When were you approached? As a youth?" She asked, wondering if this was ancient history or more recent. "Or, were you asked during your most investigation with the artist's community in Toronto?"

William coughed delicately. "A gentleman does not reveal such things…" He saw her gaze sharpen, and back peddled a bit from teasing her. "Let us just say there will never be a portrait of your husband you have not personally painted." He sent a challenge about posing for her.

"Does this mean that you'll allow me to paint you in in the nude?" She asked, enjoying the blush creeping up his cheeks. "You offered, William. You can't tell me no, now," she reminded him.

His heart opened a bit with the banter between them and almost impulsively said "yes". He took her hand, laced his fingers in hers and kissed her knuckles. "Perhaps I prefer a more modern, abstract style. Like the landscape I had in my office at one point."

"Aha! So you admit that it was no 'landscape' of the Canadian Shield! I knew it!" Laughing, she leaned against the stone building, subconsciously inviting him in for a kiss.

He laughed with her and kissed her lightly.. "It was slightly embarrassing at the time, Julia. Sally Pendrick, or perhaps I should say Sally Hubbard was trying to distract my investigation…"

"You mean she was trying to seduce you, William," she murmured, pulling on his tie to bring him closer. He complied, pressing her against the rough stone, this time kissing her more passionately.

"You're going to get us arrested, Mrs. Murdoch. Perhaps we table this discussion for later?"

Once on the _lungarno_ , they decided to stroll arm in arm to the _Ponte Vecchio_ while the sun was waning, chatting about the museum and William's x-ray idea, which Julia though was very clever, and his out-of-hand comment about being propositioned as an artist's model...which, now that her sour mood had dissipated, Julia thought was hilarious (and provided a great opportunity to tease him mercilessly.)

The mood between them was light, until a large family with several children raced on ahead of them to other side of the bridge across the _Arno_. William could feel the tension returning in her stride, so he slowed, bringing her to some shelter against a shop in the the medieval buildings which lined the bridge deck.

He found a place for them to rest out of the evening chill in a dark and cozy corner offering a modicum of privacy. Still holding her hand, he watched the last of the children skip away, followed by the parents and lastly by a tiny black-clad woman he took to be the grandmother.

He felt the loss as he spoke gently. "That family does not look like any of the paintings we saw today."

"No William, they don't. But they're beautiful in their own special, realistic way. I suppose according to standard of that family and the artwork I saw today, I am a failure as a woman. I must admit that I am feeling at such a loss, but I refuse to feel like a failure anymore…" Julia truthfully commented, stopping to look at William and gauge his reaction to her words.

William shook his head. Here he was with Julia, in Florence, Italy of all places, to put their marriage back in order. _We're here to overcome our issues, are we not?_ he reminded himself.

William wrestled with telling her about the painting before deciding to tell her the truth, even though the thought of adoption was still tender. William knew they could only truly move on if they were fully honest. "You asked me what artworks caught my eye, made the largest impression on me inside the _Uffizi_? I gravitated to the _Doni Tondo_ , Michaelangelo's image of Joseph." He took her hand again. "Julia, I am no saint, but long ago I made peace with not having my own physical children; I knew you could not have any, years before we wed. I chose you over children and I have not nor will I ever change my mind."

Julia turned to him. "I cannot try again… I even told Miss Clark that. I can't go through that again, William. The physical pain was great, but it was nothing compared my grief or to the disappointment it caused you. I cannot nor do I want to put you through that again," she admitted, feeling an odd mix of the relief as she unburdened herself, along with renewed mourning over not only the loss of Mary, but of having to accept that being a mother was a door that was closed to her, that fatherhood was a door that was closed to William.

William held her closer. Hearing her agony brought it all back to him as well. "And I never want to go through the fear of losing you, nor the pain of losing another child by miscarriage. I believe we can agree on that."

He had told her this before, but he had the sudden insight about her words…. _How can she make her primary worry about disappointing me?_

"Julia," he assured her, "in this matter you have not and cannot disappoint me. We both feel the loss of our child; _that_ loss is what disappoints me, but not you. When I hear you say that, I have the feeling that you are speaking about more than having a child." It was a statement, more than a question to her. "I am no psychiatrist but...perhaps this is more about your relationship with disapproving men in your past, such as your father. You did not fulfill his expectations, and that lead to painful estrangement between the two of you. Is that not so?"

Julia stopped cold and looked at William, her mouth agape. She wasn't sure what to say.

He continued: "My observation over the years was that you were hurt because he rejected you. My behaviours opened an old and ugly wound…" William felt a tremor inside at saying this, yet he believed strongly his instinct was correct. He'd spent years understanding the motives underlying what men and women do.

Julia winced and looked down at the old cobblestone street beneath her feet. She was speechless, and her mouth moved yet no words came out. Taking a deep breath, she looked up at William and shook her head. _Am I that transparent?_

"I suppose that both of us have issues with our fathers, don't we?" she answered. "We've shared a lot about one another, but not very much about our families. I've known that a lot of my behaviour stems from my relationship with my father. You've shocked me with your insight, William. I just didn't know that it was that obvious to, um… others, although I shouldn't be surprised; even without formal training, your keen insight is superior to many professional psychiatrists; sometimes even my own," she quietly admitted in a small voice.

Listening to her disclosure, William thought it was remarkable. "This is why I am so very sorry for how I reacted, so very sorry for having hurt you, for having said words which are unforgivable. In the moment I was blinded by my feelings, blindsided by what was happening... but I knew I had behaved terribly and that you were justified in having me leave."

"But you didn't leave me, at least not fully. I know that now. I said if that's how you felt, and you left, so I assumed that it was so. I was hurt and not thinking rationally either. But, you're right. My entire life I've been fighting men in some capacity and perpetually disappointing my father. I was and am heartbroken about Mary's loss, but I am also so sorry at the pain it has caused you. Yet again, I hurt the man I love more than anyone...a nasty habit of mine, it seems," she confessed.

William felt tears well. The sun having set long ago now, he sought her face in the gloom hoping she could feel his sincerity,,. "Julia, my unwelcome habit is taking a very long time to digest things, to speak my mind. I will never leave you, I am incapable."

 _I have always come back to you,_ he said to himself and he knew in his heart it would always be so. William went on in a rush. "I made my vows to you, Julia, as God blessed our union. I will not break them. I hope you can come to trust me, that I can earn that trust back…"

Julia interpreted that he was alluding to the lack of physical union between them, that he still thought he needed to earn her trust before she shared her body again with him, when that wasn't the case at all. William was a remarkable man, but a man nonetheless, and not for the first time, she wondered how long he'd be willing to remain abstinent, given that he had to know that she was avoiding his affections at this point. She really needed to discuss it with him, but it never seemed to be a good time.

 _So much for not keeping secrets from one another,_ she scolded herself.

Knowing that she couldn't talk about that topic in public, she opted to again change the subject.

Taking a breath Julia decided to bring up something else which was still painful. "William, there is a hole in my heart left by both Roland and Mary. No child can ever replace another," Julia almost stopped herself, and then carried on before she could lose the courage she had mustered.

" …I'm fully prepared to pursue adoption upon our return, but I have my reservations about getting too excited about it. You have saddled yourself with a notorious woman, Detective," she jibed, seeking to lighten the mood once again as well as soften the cold truth. Putting her arm through his, and huddling against him for warmth, they resumed their stroll across the bridge towards their hotel.

As for William, his mind was elated. It felt to him as if some of the burden he'd been carrying was shifted. He felt lighter. However, Julia was wrong about one thing he needed to correct immediately.

"Julia," he said carefully, "I am sorry again, but it is not your fault alone we are having troubles with adoption. My past is an impediment to adoption as much as or even more than yours is, and my profession is not viewed positively by the vast majority of society. So it is not at your feet if we cannot adopt if it comes to that. If that is what results, then so be it; I will never blame you." He nearly said he'd accept it as God's will, but knew that might stir her up uncomfortably.

Julia felt lightened. "Perhaps we should go back to our room and discuss from where we might like to adopt. Given our pasts, perhaps we should explore options outside Ontario and perhaps even the country," she felt inspired by the suggestion. "Then we should get some rest. Our journey to Rome tomorrow will be long," she reminded.

"And we can turn over those ideas to pass the time while we are on the train tomorrow. Shall we go for an older child or a pair of older siblings perhaps? Or a child that needs medical care?" William's excitement was building. The heartache inside was slowly, slowly easing. Roland and Mary would always have a special place in their hearts, but perhaps there was more room for another child to love.

"I love you, William Murdoch," Julia blurted out, surprised at her outburst. She stopped and placed her arms around him, reveling in his embrace. She was content to remain there until she remembered that he might want to finish what she had started earlier.

"I love you too, Mrs. Murdoch…" he told her, safe in the knowledge that their paths were moving forward together.

As for Julia, while they walked arm and arm through the ancient streets on stones set centuries ago during the Roman Empire, she reflected on William's remarkable admissions. He had given her all the reassurance and understanding she hoped for, and perhaps more than she knew she ever needed to heal the hurt his behaviours had caused. He offered no recriminations, nothing but love.

Instead of a tear of joy, she felt her eyes weep in fear:

She loved him and wanted to spend her life with him, but would that be enough for him?

 _How will he feel about a sexless marriage? He certainly won't be happy about it, but can he forgive me and accept it?_

She knew he would never leave her, but there was no denying that he had his appetites... _What will I do when he finally seeks another?_ She couldn't bear the thought of another woman touching him, but neither could it be her ever again. To resume her role as his lover as she had been before was just not possible - not without risking a pregnancy that would end in tragedy, and she was very scared how he would react to that bit of information. The seesaw of emotions she had experienced of late was back again.

 _Perhaps what he doesn't know won't hurt him_ …


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

 **Thursday**

 _ **Porta Pia, Roma**_

"I must admit that I am more appreciative of the value and impact of monumental art now, and the iconography and motifs which are incorporated as decoration," Julia said as they made their way along the relatively empty cobblestone avenue. She had decided that spontaneity was preferable and today she was particularly glad that she had dismissed the _cicerone_ tour guide yesterday in favour of doing her own research and freedom to do as they chose.

The short December day was dry but overcast and cold, sending most citizens to conduct their pre-Christmas lives and business indoors rather than stroll along looking 'up' at the buildings which, to the Roman natives, were merely everyday streetscapes. She and William, a pair of hearty Canadians, were mostly alone in that pursuit under grey skies on their second day of just wandering around Rome to see what they could see before their sojourn ended. Tomorrow, they would have a day at Vatican City before retracing their steps back home. Julia jokingly reassured him that her presence would not cause the "holy walls" to cave inward.

William had not pressed her regarding physical relations, seemingly happy and content to let things be, and she had slowly come to her own conclusions as well, which in turn made her fully at ease with him. The cold urgency she had felt just a few days before was replaced by a warmth which flowed between them, like a personal sun for just her and William to enjoy in their own little world: It felt good to have that again. It felt right.

"I also appreciate the debate over the best balance in art between the realistic depictions of nature versus idealization," she continued, pulling the new ocean-blue wool and silk shawl William bought her from a Roman shop tighter around her shoulders. "But I still like more modern, evocative works."

"Yes, you do," William agreed.

"I like something that leaves a little to the imagination," she gave him and arched eyebrow to remind him of their discussion about the sheer quantity of human figures in accurate anatomical detail displayed literally everywhere in the city. "And you still like a tree to look like a tree…no matter what you said about the new cubist style."

He smiled fondly. "Yes. I do…" he answered, enjoying the banter.

Julia squeezed his hand. She was in a fine mood after a rigorous day of sightseeing, from the _Piazza di San Bernardo_ , to the F _ontana dell'Acqua Felice_ , (or in English the Fountain of Moses), to _Chiesa di Santa Maria della Vittoria_ with its exquisite Bernini _Ecstasy of Theresa._ William nearly waxed romantical about Theresa being pierced by the arrow of divine love.

To be honest with herself, this particular wall and neoclassical city entrance were dull and uninspiring in comparison to so many other public statues and carvings strewn about the city willy-nilly rather than being properly organized in a museum. If she saw one more Roman arch she might despair, but walking and talking with William, just the two of them immersed in each other was worth the fatigue to her feet. Saturday they were heading back home, retracing their route through Paris, Liverpool and across the Atlantic, leaving behind a plethora of antiquities, for a place in the New World which hadn't even been officially called a city until seventy-odd years ago.

 _A city whose morality laws and self-righteous citizens might insist on full - length tunics for each and every masterpiece so as not to offend anyone's gentle sensibilities with a display of bare limb, never mind the breasts, or, God-forbid, genitalia!_ she thought privately with a snort.

"Well, William, here we are at the Aurelian Wall where, after Napoleon's reign had fallen, the Papal State capital of Rome was wrested away by the Savoys to unify Italy in 1870." Julia was rather proud of how she memorized the guidebook. "The wall's breach respected the history of the entrance designed by Michelangelo; much better than Napoleon had respected the Egyptian Sphinx!" Julia grinned at William as she gestured to the interior facade of the entrance. "I understand the Pope remains displeased," she said with an innocent-sounding aside.

"Indeed. The native Savoys managed to honour and not destroy their own heritage. But I believe the Holy Father has modified his position on being a prisoner in the Vatican." William allowed her to go under the arch first.

As they went through, she noted a man and a petite dark-haired woman in shadows by the side of the archway engaged in an argument, their exchange a volley of French, an Italian expletive or two and rapid hand gestures which cut off immediately when she and William drew close. Julia sighed, thinking the couple were probably lovers and she was glad she and William had not erupted at each other lately.

William escorted Julia through the portal to the other side, then brought her a distance away so she could see the four-columned outer facade with central arch bracketed by two niches inhabited by the obligatory religious or historic statues. Once she was positioned for the view, she squinted and looked up, unimpressed. "Why did you want me to see this?"

"One of Michelangelo's final commissions. On the left is a statue of Saint Agnes. I thought you'd appreciate her story."

Julia made a face. "Oh, I would, would I? If I recall it, according to the view shared by her "suitors" and the government, if she would not be one man's wife, she might as well be every man's whore. Failing these options, she might as well be dead. After all, as a live woman living out her normal life, she'd be of no interest to male historians or the Church Fathers." Julia said as sweetly as possible, trying to keep the creep of sarcasm out of her voice.

She almost followed up by saying that Catholics seemed to be rather obsessed about sex, but that would be cruel and brush upon the unspoken problem between them, so she bit her tongue in time. "She is lovely," Julia answered to rescue herself, "as an example of sculpture…"

William seemed to let the minor lapse go in his enthusiasm for his subject. "Yes, it is a fine example of carving. And yes, actually, I believe you will like the tale." He took her hand in his. "The martyrdom of Saint Agnes can be interpreted as the role model of a young woman who refused to cave into the pressure of her family and the state; refused to behave in the way she was told to behave, or to conform to the way Society insisted women be. Instead…."

Julia was certain William wanted to tell that story as some sort of message to her, but in the midst of his lecture, shouting from the other side of the entrance then a scream and a strangled cry echoed off the stonework, breaking his concentration. The two of them locked eyes with each other and as one, they ran towards the commotion.

Slumped against the wall in a tangled nest of her skirts was the dark-haired woman, her taller male companion standing over her, his eyes wild, and a knife dropping from his fingers. The woman's dress was drenched with blood.

Clearly, this was no lover's quarrel, Julia thought. Once the man heard them, he reached down to scoop something up, looked back one time, and took off.

"Tend to her!" William urged Julia, who was already rushing to the victim's side. " _Stop!"_ he hollered. " _Arrêtez!...Arresto!"_ while chasing after the assailant, getting his hand on the man's scarf; hauling back on it nearly took the escaping quarry off his feet. When the man whirled around to unwind himself from the scarf, a portfolio fell from his jacket and skittered to the cobblestones in the process.

William paused to snatch that up and was going to keep up pursuit when Julia shouted: "William, I need your help. She is not going to make it."

William thought he saw the assailant slack his space, but the woman's life was more important than the chase so he turned back to come quickly to Julia aide.

"Help me get her flat so I can staunch the blood," Julia commanded.

William placed his coat on the ground and got the woman down as fast as possible, allowing Julia to put more pressure on the wound. "We need to get her to hospital, right now. Get help," she ordered. William nodded and rose, looking around for anyone and anything useful for the situation.

" _Non!"_ a voice croaked.

William and Julia were both shocked. The victim was conscious. " _Ambassade…_ " she grunted out weakly.

"The French Embassy is close by," William explained, looking at Julia. "Can we get her there?"

"She needs a surgeon! Laying her down got enough blood up to her brain for a moment but she has lost a lot of it! You go get help while I stay. Why it is the one time we need to have a crowd of people around the street is deserted!" she complained. And it was true: all of a sudden there was no one anywhere in sight.

The woman stirred, gripping Julia's arms with surprising strength. " _Non. Pas d'hôpital. Diplomatique. Ambassade Britannique. Demandez Olga…Seulement Olga ... promets-moi…_

 _À l'arrière._ " The woman's voice was insistent. " _Britannique."_

" _Madame, quel est votre nom?_ " William asked, but the woman passed out again.

Julia was puzzled. "What in Heaven's name does a French woman want with the British Embassy?"

William noticed a gold cross the woman was wearing, comprised of three crossbeams. "I don't think she is French, but it doesn't matter. We have to get her help and the British Embassy is closer anyway. Can you fold a pressure bandage?" He saw it was being done with Julia's new scarf. "Good." Taking the woman up in his arms, they went full speed down the avenue to a gate at the back of the British Embassy compound.

" **Oy!... Hello**!" William shouted, "We need immediate assistance!" while Julia struck the metal panel with one of her feet at the same time keeping pressure on the woman's chest..

The racket brought a uniformed guard to the gate. "What is going on here? State your business…"

Julia thought it was rather obvious and was about to say so when the guard's eyes opened with shock. "Good Lord!" He took his keys and opened the lock. "Who are you?" he demanded, helping William bring his limp burden inside and across a short courtyard to the building.

Julia answered directly as they went. "I am Dr. Julia Ogden and this is my husband William Murdoch. We are Canadian citizens on holiday. This woman was attacked and badly wounded by a knife just moments ago and we interrupted the assault. She insisted we bring her here and ask for a woman named Olga, and only Olga. She is bleeding and needs immediate medical attention or she will die."

When the guard hesitated, William raised his voice, walking right up to the outer door. "You heard the doctor. Take us to this Olga immediately and locate your house medic if you have one."

Wordlessly, the pale-faced guard brought William and Julia through the outer ground floor entrance, and a second set of doors which led along a narrow corridor. Instead of going downstairs to where the servant's quarters and medical staff were likely housed, he took them to an elevator and up to the third floor residence. The guard opened the door to a room and gestured for them to place the woman on a small bed. "Help her. I will get the doctor."

Julia got down to business, examining the wound, frustrated she had none of her medical equipment with her, only able to use pressure on the wound using the only thing available which was her scarf. The woman was failing and she knew the knife had sliced a vein or artery; she only hoped it had not also punctured visceral organs. "Who do you think she is William? She speaks French but you do not think she is French? Is she perhaps from Quebec or the Maritimes?"

He shook his head. "She is wearing a Russian Orthodox Cross. French is, or at least was the Russian court language and since she is also asking for a woman named 'Olga' who is perhaps a servant or possibly a translator for the Embassy here..." he paused, looking sadly at the woman Julia was tending to, "I believe she may be a Russian courtier or diplomat, perhaps seeking asylum…if she lives…"

"She is not seeking asylum." An anguished voice came into the room, spoken by a slender, delicate-featured woman in her forties who rushed immediately to the bed and picked up the victim's hand. "She is Princess Alexandra Nikolayevna Loanova-Rostovskaya. I am Olga, her sister," the new woman said tearfully. " And she must live! Please, doctor- Fafka must live!"

William and Julia looked at each other simultaneously, surprise mirrored on their faces. A man accompanying Olga (presumably the doctor) came around to the other side, lifted the makeshift bandage and rapidly took the princess' vital signs. The lady was nearly white, cold to the touch with a weak heartbeat. Her blood pressure was nearly unmeasurable. "She is in hypovolemic shock," Dr. Park pronounced gravely, estimating the blood loss from what was absorbed by his patient's dress and Julia's blue shawl. He rose from the bed, shaking his head. "I am so very sorry madam," he said to Olga, "she has lost too much blood. I can make her comfortable but…." He said this with a greatest compassion, causing the princess's sister to weep.

"Wait!" Julia interjected. "You cannot give up! If we can repair the damage and get her blood volume up she might make it!"

Dr. Park frowned and answered. "She needs more than fluids, I'm afraid."

"Yes, exactly! Let us give her a blood transfusion," Julia asked, looking down at the nearly lifeless princess.

William saw the effect of Julia's plea on Olga and Dr. Park: hope from one and skepticism from the other.

"Is this so?" the sister asked, her voice breaking.

"Yes," Julia assured her. "I am Dr. Julia Ogden. I am familiar with Karl Landsteiner's work on blood types and in Toronto I have presided at two such transfusions. Both patients lived. I have had a transfusion myself, which saved my own life. If you have the equipment we can proceed."

"You are a physician?" Dr. Park merely seemed to be confirming, not challenging, Julia's credentials. "Dr. Ogden, there is no time for blood comparisons. We might merely hasten her death."

Olga, who had been witnessing the exchange spoke passionately. "She is my flesh and blood, so take mine, doctor!"

Dr. Park shook his head again. "Dear Lady, I cannot, not in your, condition…" He left the reason vague but as Olga's hand unconsciously went to her abdomen, Julia and William suspected a pregnancy.

"Then I will do so," William spoke up. "Dr. Park, I have the blood type which is shown to be compatible to give to everyone. Please: my wife is right, if you work quickly, she may be saved…."

* * *

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

 **British Embassy**

 _ **Via Venti Settembre, Roma**_

William was reluctant to leave Julia, but as he had no other practical help to offer, he accepted being escorted into the hallway. Dr. Park had just finished his surgery and Olga and Julia were still at the princess's bedside. He himself was a little woozy from giving blood, but the princess's colour was better, her heart rate improved, and she was resting comfortably. William had not yet been formally introduced to Olga, but it was clear that 'Olga' was not a servant or translator, and as the sister of a princess might be some sort of royalty herself. He could certainly see a family resemblance in the heart shaped face and glossy dark hair on a petite frame.

 _That back embassy gate did not open up out of altruism: the guard recognized Princess Alexandra_ , William said to himself. Why two Russian princesses were at the British Embassy in Rome he could not say. William also noticed that two armed guards now stood on either side of the door, with two more officers and what he assumed was an embassy functionary ready to question him. Whether the guards were to protect the princess from further assault or make sure she was confined to the room was also unclear.

"Sir? If you will come with me?"

It was not really a request. William tried to straighten his blood-soaked suit jacket and brush his trousers then gave up, hoping the dark coloured fabric was going to hide most of the damage. The embassy official did not offer his name, so William shrugged and went with him downstairs to the Embassy's ground floor business offices, the two guards following closely. On the way down, he observed the embassy was preparing for a large event of some kind. Carpets were being rolled up and removed from the floors and bunting was being added to the walls. A short rap on an office door and William was admitted to a formally appointed room. Behind the desk was a robust-looking gentleman in a frock coat.

"Good afternoon. I am George Greaves, Canadian Delegate to Rome. Please have a seat, Detective Murdoch."

"Good afternoon, Mr. Greaves." William hoped his clothing was not going to soil the yellow silk upholstery on the chair as he sat. The guards were shooed out, but he suspected did not go very far. He was impressed and a little unnerved that this man knew he was _Detective_ Murdoch. _How did he know?_

Greaves sat back at his chair and centered a brown file folder on the desk in front of him. There were no unnecessary pleasantries. Greaves got right to the point: "You and your wife interrupted an assault and were persuaded to bring the victim here. What can you tell me about the assault and the assailant?"

The diplomat asked no other questions. William was unused to being the question-ee, but able enough in delivering factual information, so he provided a succinct statement while, interestingly, Greaves took not a single notation.

Greaves nodded when William stopped talking then flipped his folder open. "Detective William Murdoch of the Toronto Constabulary, on leave from his position. Travelling with his wife, Dr. Julia Ogden, also on leave from her position with the city, both on an abruptly scheduled extended holiday. Left from Halifax on the _RMS Lucania_ to Liverpool then Le Havre. Paris, Nice, Monte Carlo, Florence and now Rome." Another flip. "I have a notation here that you saved the life of His Royal Highness Prince Alfred and helped prevent an assassination attempt on the life of Lord Treadstone, for which you received a personal note and a reward from Her Majesty Queen Victoria. You also were commended by Wilfred Laurier for saving Toronto from being extorted by a madman." Greaves closed the folder. "I have other reports here of a more classified nature." He looked at William skeptically. "You also at one time were accused of murder, as was your wife."

"Yes." William was not going to offer any defense. _If the man knows this much about us then he knows we were exonerated._

"Detective, what I am about to tell you is a ….."

"Matter of national security?" William had it out of his mouth before he thought about it, feeling his face redden in embarrassment.

Greaves frowned. "Levity is inappropriate, Mr. Murdoch! We have an urgent security issue with a resident member of His Majesty's Embassy, on a day we are preparing for more than a hundred diplomatic guests for the annual Christmas Ball tomorrow night. Did you happen to observe if the assailant carried anything away with him?"

William understood the diplomat was much more interested in this question than his first one. _Of course, that is really what this is all about_. William reached into one of his special jacket pockets and retrieved a small portfolio. Placing it on the desk, he pushed it forward with a finger, watching Greaves' hands twitch.

"Have you opened this? Read the contents?" Greaves asked while giving William a penetrating look.

"No, sir. I have not." William answered, feeling wary now.

Greaves placed his hand on the portfolio William had placed there, and drew it over the desktop towards himself. The diplomat's voice was flat and cold. "You certainly should hope not…"

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Soft breathing from Princess Alexandra and the ticking of a large clock were the only sounds reaching Julia's ears as she and Olga sat on either side of the bed. As soon as Dr. Park excused himself, Olga kissed her sister's forehead and made a sign of the cross, similar, but not exactly the same as how William performs the blessing. "Thank you, Dr. Ogden, thank God for you and your husband."

"You are welcome... is it Princess Olga?" Julia did not know how else to address the woman so she took a guess so as not to offend.

Olga made a face. "Where are my manners? My only thought was for my sister so I have neglected to make formal introductions. I am Olga, daughter of Prince Nicholas Lobanov-Rostovsky of Russia. Considering it is my sister you saved, you must call me Olga." She brought herself upright. "I am also your hostess, and it is my honour to be the wife of Sir Edwin Henry Edgerton, British Ambassador to the King of Italy. Welcome to our home."

"Lady Olga, then…. Your sister is still gravely ill. I don't want you to get any false hope," Julia warned. "That man stabbed her rather severely."

"My sister is stronger than anyone might imagine." Olga sent a look of pity mixed with exasperation towards her sister. "Alexandra, my younger sister whom we call 'Fafka,' is an eccentric... never had any interest in marriage, you understand. She has always been an adventurer, brave and reckless, has always been able to make one laugh…" Her voice broke, then she took in a ragged breath to steady herself.

Julia recognized the sentiment. "I too have a brave and reckless, younger sister," she admitted, "who has gotten herself into scrapes, no matter how I have tried to counsel her."

"Exactly! Those qualities were why two Grand Duchesses took her as a lady-in-waiting… because of Fafka's _joie de vivre_ ," Olga smiled at some memory, then faced Julia directly to explain. "Ours is a family of diplomats; for Fafka, with a title and no fortune, being a lady-in-waiting was an honourable way to get on in this world without attachments."

A groan emanated from the bed. Instantly, Olga was hovering over her sister, murmuring reassurances and more thanks to God in three languages. Then the tone changed. Julia understood a few of the basic French phrases and almost nothing of the Russian, but the sisters were definitely arguing. Julia put her hand gently on her companion's shoulder. "Lady Olga, please! Your sister needs her rest."

Alexandra managed to get her fingers in Julia's sleeve. "You! I saw you. What happened to him?" The question was weak and desperate in heavily accented English.

Julia wanted her patient to be calmed, assuming the woman needed to know she was no longer in danger. "You are safe now. He got away but, rest assured they will find him as soon as you identify him."

"He escaped?" Alexandra's pale face smiled faintly before the she passed out again.

Julia was astonished to realize the princess appeared pleased that her assailant got away. Olga paused, considering how much intimacy to share with a stranger. "I believe that man was her lover," she told Julia.

Julia recalled her original assumption of a lovers' quarrel when she saw them by the arch. "I'd say the relationship was not one of love, since it ended in attempted murder."

Olga sighed. "If I don't miss my guess, it was my sister who brought the knife."

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

William devoured the tea and biscotti which a guard brought in. He'd been left in Mr. Greaves' office and told politely to wait. "Wait" of course, meant under guard, as evidenced by the presence of embassy security to keep him company. He was more concerned for Julia's whereabouts and welfare, nervous that if the Princess took a turn for the worse, somehow they'd be blamed. Once he felt his strength return he paced.

 _What is taking so long?_

He nearly jumped when Mr. Greaves came back in, irritated with his own nervousness.

"We have been able to speak, briefly, with Princess Alexandra, as well as your wife, who corroborate your version of events. It seems the Princess will recover. You and your wife will never know how much, but you have rendered a great service to your King and brought honour to your country," Greaves coughed. "And you never met the Princess and this incident never happened.…"

"Of course." William said. He knew exactly what Greaves meant: this _was_ about national security, or at least preventing a scandal from jeopardizing Ambassador Edgerton's and England's reputation.

 _What else was there to say?_

"There can never be any public acknowledgement of your activities, but I have also been instructed by the Ambassador to offer you and your wife a generous reward." Greaves sat at his chair and selected a large ledger from his center desk drawer. Opening it to an official looking page, Greaves prepared to write a cheque.

William thought about it, then sat up straight, brushing his fingers over his forehead and forming a sideways smile on his face.

"Actually, Mr. Greaves. I was thinking of a reward of a different sort…."


	5. Chapter 5

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

 **Chapter Five**

 **Friday**

 _ **Hotel de la Minerve, Roma, Italia**_

Waiting for the lady's maid which the hotel promised to send up to her well-appointed room, Julia stared at the sumptuous dresses she had purchased during the trip, evaluating each one individually, yet knowing that there was only one valid choice for a grand ball at an embassy: the sapphire, jewel-toned Doucet gown she'd bought in Paris. Taking the dress from its silk garment bag, she laid it out along with the matching shoes and accessories and stared at the ensemble, acknowledging her mixed feelings.

Wearing this gown ensured only one outcome: this evening would end with her and William making love. She couldn't help but feel conflicted: she was ready to resume this aspect of their relationship, yet was plagued with a fresh prick of guilt, as she hadn't yet told William about the medical device she'd acquired from a discreet, yet well-regarded physician who catered to the well-to-do women from his well-appointed office just off the _Promenade des Anglais_ in Nice. She hadn't wanted to use the it without William's knowledge (she was terrified he'd be furious over it, or worse- angry with her for keeping yet another secret) but she was far too frightened of the consequences of a pregnancy to not take precautions, certain that they'd managed to conceive without the hormone treatments; thus her dilemma over the past few weeks.

 _It is past since time we resumed relation_ s, she chided herself, then, grabbing the box containing the device, she slipped off to the water closet, disregarding the voice in her head that reminded her that she hadn't yet told William of its existence, determined to take the control in her own hands.

A short while later, as the young lady's maid styled her hair into an appropriate coiffure, Julia took a deep breath and did her best to disregard her queasy feelings, sipping a most excellent Italian red wine. Staring at her reflection in the oval dressing table mirror, she agreed with the maid's choice of a loose knot atop her head festooned with peacock feathers which complemented the iridescence of her gown. Just like the dress, her complete ensemble was nothing like she typically wore, yet she had to admit that it suited her well. She even consented to more cosmetics than she was wont to use, lining her eyes in kohl to make them appear more dramatic. Satisfied with her toilette, she pushed back from the vanity and stood to dress, holding her breath as she was laced tight and then finally stepped into the gown, relishing the cool, whisper-like touch of the silk as it flowed over her body, then slid into her midnight blue silk slippers.

" _Come un gioiello, Signora_ ," the young woman smiled. " _Bellissima,_ " she added.

Julia smiled in agreement. "Yes, it does flatter me, doesn't it?"

Nodding, the young woman curtsied and left. Staring at the reflection in the mirror in her complete ensemble, Julia wondered how William would react to her uncharacteristic appearance. Finishing her glass of wine, Julia dabbed her _parfum_ purchased from the House of Guerlain behind her ears and in her décolletage for the final touch. Taking a deep breath, she opened the doors from the bedroom and glided into the living area, waiting for William's reaction.

William felt the door sweep open and heard a brush of silk behind him. He was turned towards a full length mirror, smoothing the front of his evening clothes hoping the hotel valet had revived the outfit sufficiently to be presentable, considering it had been packed and repacked several times over the course of their trip. The garment had been expertly brushed and sponged, and was accompanied by a very fashionably embroidered white waistcoat and tie which his Parisian tailor insisted he take in anticipation of the full bespoke suit to be picked later.

His initial satisfaction about getting the coveted invitation to the ball was replaced with nervousness about going to this affair as a guest of the Canadian Delegation at the British Embassy, especially since they were to be presented to His Majesty's Ambassador Extraordinary and Plenipotentiary to the King of Italy, Sir Edwin Henry Edgerton and The Very Reverend Bishop Fergus Patrick, appointed Privy Chamberlain by Pope Leo XIII and rumoured to be on the shortlist to be the next Archbishop of Toronto. He wanted to make a proper impression, feeling the responsibility of representing Toronto and the Constabulary weighing rather heavily. It would not do to embarrass himself as an uncultured colonial...

When William caught her image behind him in the mirror and swung around, his mouth fell open. Encountering Julia swathed in her new blue silk ball gown positively stole his breath.

 _Good Heavens! No one will pay the least bit of attention to me..._

If he thought the dress looked remarkable in Monsieur Doucet's _atelier,_ it was nothing in comparison to how gorgeous Julia looked in it as she stood like a vision before him. Every line of the garment accentuated her features: upright carriage, narrow waist, a dancer's strong arms and long neck. Her hair was softly gathered and crowned with a simple spray of feathers in lieu of a tiara. He found himself falling in love with her blue eyes, so alight with gaiety. In his imagination, Julia's entrance into the Embassy was going to be met with awe.

 _She will be the belle of the ball…._

Julia saw his smile was wide and genuine, and his eyes twinkled in a way she hadn't seen in weeks. Any misgivings she had about being less than fully forthcoming with him were immediately dispelled as she glimpsed the joy on his face.

Recovering himself, he bowed to her, catching a blush on her cheek. He took her hand and raised it to his lips, lingering to catch her eye, his own eyes black with desire, and Julia felt her belly coil with passion.

There was no doubt that this evening would be a long prelude to a climactic event back in their suite later that night.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

 **Friday Night**

 _ **British Embassy, Via Venti Settembre, Roma**_

The second floor grand ballroom in the British embassy at Porta Pia was lit by four of the biggest crystal chandeliers Julia had ever seen. Pale yellow silk wall-coverings complemented the warm honey-ochre colour of a granite ribbon of low wall which girdled the rectangular room and created architectural interest. On one side of the room, mirrors in granite half-moon arches and on each set of double doors reflected light plus the colour and swirl of the women's' gowns. One end of the room held space for the two chamber orchestras which were expected to supply continuous music over the course of the night, and in the exterior wall opposite of the double doors were tall windows which looked out on the night sky.

Ladies and gentlemen displayed their best behaviour: manners were more ceremonial, clothing was finer, and bows were deeper. William had been correct that a ball was the pinnacle test of social etiquette and graces; fortunately Julia herself had been schooled in the art of gliding across a dancefloor, for once grateful for the tutelage of her iron-fisted grandmother. Julia had never attended a formal ball at an embassy before, but she assumed that it would be very proper, very decorous, and very intellectually dull.

She was very correct.

In fact, Julia was one of the younger guests there, and by far the most scandalously attired, judging from the looks of disapproval and scorn from the far more conservatively dressed women who were undoubtedly gossiping about her from the hallway on one side of the high-ceilinged room.

 _As if those old biddies were anything I cared about._

Even if the conversation was less than scintillating, she never lacked for a dancing partner the entire evening, receiving both courteous notice and more than a few speculative glances from the men in attendance, to the great displeasure of a few young ladies who had thought it was supposed to have been their night to shine.

Her admirers included Sir Edwin Henry Edgerton himself, who declared her a "lovely jewel in His Majesty's crown, indeed" as she was presented to him and who even asked her for a dance later in the evening, which only set the other women off to titter about her all the more. She guessed him to be in his late sixties, yet Julia suspected that despite his dignified manner, he enjoyed causing some consternation amongst the women as much as she did, particularly given that he winked at her as he bowed at the conclusion of their spry turn around the dance floor.

William paid little mind to her dancing with other men, and tonight was no exception, always watching her with a Cheshire grin on his face. As fun as reveling in outrageous behaviour could be, there was only one man whose attentions she was concerned about, and when she wasn't dancing with others, she basked in her husband's beaming smile. It was not typical for a married couple to dance with one another in Society, and while it is a sign of unusual attention for a husband to dance with his wife, he may do so if he wishes. Therefore William took advantage where he might, partnering with her on the occasional waltz.

Julia delighted in the fact that he seemed to be having great difficulty in keeping his hands off of her, going so far as to break with propriety to dance with her twice in a row! Any guilt about not being fully forthcoming with him was forgotten as she delighted in the way he looked at her all evening along with the equally delightful French champagne she sipped. As an added bonus, William partook in the bubbly beverage as well, leaving Julia to anticipate the pleasures of a slightly disinhibited husband later on. She looked over at William, hoping to catch his eye.

 _I am having a hard time waiting…._ she admitted to herself.

Julia's blush caught the attention of her partner, a young Italian military attaché. "Are you very warm, Signora?"

She laughed as lightly as she could, employing her fan. "Why, not at all. Shall we...?"

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

...Across the dance floor, William fidgeted a little with his waistcoat as Julia took her place for the next dance. _Midnight cannot come soon enough,_ he thought, since at that hour the dancing portion of the party would end with supper being served.

"Your wife is exceptional, Detective Murdoch," Ambassador Edgerton commented privately whilst they stood by one of the tall windows, watching the musicians strike up a lively tune. No one else was near enough to overhear their exchange.

"Of that I am aware, your Excellency." William could not deny the truth of it, but he raised an eyebrow at such a personal statement from the diplomat.

The ambassador caught him. "Detective, you would not do well in the Foreign Service corps, where bland, inoffensive and opaque are necessary skills." Edgerton explained with a chuckle as he gestured to the inlaid ballroom floor where Julia was dancing with an officer. "My apologies, sir, but I must speak the truth and I am old enough to have an opinion on these matters. Your wife is not only intelligent and brave, but very beautiful."

William nodded politely at Edgerton's jovial mood, since he and Julia were the major cause of the ambassador's good humour and for creating a fond place in Lady Olga's heart.

"I now see why you requested an invitation to this party as the reward for your most recent services to His Majesty's Government, Detective." He laughed again. "A wise man understands a happy wife is the path to one's own domestic bliss."

William saw a fond look in the Ambassador's face as the man's gaze fell on the much younger Lady Olga Edgerton.

"I also have a spirited wife of my own." Edgerton sounded proud and very serious. "You have also made her happy; we are in your debt sir."

"Not at all, Your Excellency," William demurred.

Edgerton took his companion's measure, then rocked a bit on his heels with a satisfied expression on his face. "You know," he confided, "I too married for love, even if it took me half a century, or more, to find the perfect woman and I have never regretted it for a single moment."

"Indeed, sir." William was not going to argue that point either as it mirrored his feeling about Julia.

Edgerton gestured at the guests in the ballroom. "My sole occupation as an ambassador towards the end of my career is maintaining cordial friendship between Italy and His Majesty's government, and to make sure no questions of any great moment arise between the two. If my obituary says as much I have done my job. You have rescued my reputation, Detective. I am sorry I cannot offer you more, but you understand the delicacy of these things."

"Of course, sir. Julia and I are honoured to have been able to assist." Out of the corner of his eye, William saw a member of the diplomatic staff approach the Ambassador and whisper in his ear before withdrawing.

"Detective, I am told supper is ready. The usual bullion followed by chicken and peas… and by special request, Beef Wellington," the man patted his waistline with a wink. "I cannot stand the local food, and I understand you have the same complaint. The final dance will be a waltz, so perhaps you will collect your wife for the last turn on the floor, then do join us for supper."

"Thank you sir. I believe we will be going now, as our train departs very early tomorrow."

"As you wish, Detective. Godspeed." Edgerton inclined his head very slightly, signalling he was taking his leave.

William bowed to his host, eager to claim his bride. As much as he might look forward to some English food (and after midnight on a Friday so he could enjoy the beef) what he wanted more than anything was to convince Julia to leave after the last dance, another kind of hunger on his mind.

He reached her just and the final waltz began to take her hand. "May I have this dance?"

On the floor Julia flowed with him in his arms, caught up just in the music and his embrace. "You know," she whispered, "I am just dying to know what was in that diplomatic portfolio you picked up."

"Julia?! What portfolio?" He smiled and winked. "It is safer for us that we do not know, and we have been warned to erase this incident from our memories. You never did tell me what the princess had to say for herself."

"That was what was so extraordinary! And so romantic." Julia leaned in closer. "Lady Olga explained that she believes her sister, Princess Alexandra, was in love with that man, but when the princess discovered he stole sensitive material from the Embassy, she confronted him. It was she who brought the knife to the _Porta Pia_ meeting. They struggled and she was wounded accidentally. Princess Alexandra is both glad he escaped _and_ that the secrets did not fall into enemy hands."

William thought that the daring, headstrong princess took too many risks. "I can see how embarrassing that would have been for the Embassy and the ambassador particularly. I also get the distinct impression that Lady Olga's sister is more than a hanger-on at the Embassy. I am thinking she is possibly in Terrence Meyers' line of work."

Julia nodded in agreement, thinking that was very likely. "But William, the romance of it! She was willing to sacrifice her love for him, her relationship with him for a higher loyalty, but she was not willing to sacrifice his life to the law."

William twirled her around. "Indeed. It is hard to make those choices, and it shows her character that she did what she did."

"Yes," she said, "it does."

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

William escorted Julia back into their suite, the both of them giddy and stumbling on champagne and excitement, lunging for one another as soon as the door closed behind them as all demands for restraint and propriety were finally gone. William had imagined this very movement, how it would feel to make love with Julia again after so much pain and estrangement. Their connection was going to validate all that he surrendered to have it.

"Do tell, Detective. Just what exactly were you thinking tonight?" Julia teased him, brushing her right hand along the inseam of his trousers.

"That this evening you were the most beautiful, accomplished woman in the whole embassy." Her touch was exquisite, fueling his passion. With a throaty chuckle, he pushed her against the door, his finger tracing around her neckline. She had worn the Mobius pendant he'd given her so he moved it delicately aside.

"I was also imagining this…and...this…" he murmured, nibbling along her neck, holding her in place with his body. "Along with how I couldn't wait to divest you of this dress, even though I have been waiting weeks for you to wear it," he whispered into her ear as he slid his hands down the silk before moving his fingers around her back, unhooking the fasteners and smiling at her as he peeled it over her shoulders and down her body, allowing it to pool at her feet.

William helped her to step out of it, then she kicked off her slippers as he bent down to retrieve the dress and drape it over a chair lest it be ruined.

Silently, she began stripping him of his own finery while he enjoyed the feel of her palms on his bare chest. As she moved to his trousers, he grabbed her hands. "My turn," he heard himself growl, reaching around her for her corset, deftly unfastening it with ease and making equally quick work of her chemise. He took advantage of the opportunity to feel the velvet of her bare back, before untying her pantalettes and allowing them to join her other undergarments on the floor. She snuck hands to his trousers again and tried the buttons which strained under the pressure of his arousal.

 _Oh it seems we desire the same thing…_ With effort he resisted. "Not yet," he answered in a deep rasp, picking her up and carrying her to their bed.

Laughing, she protested. "William, this is hardly equal...you're still half-dressed and I'm completely nu…Oh!"

Having placed her on the bed, he proceeded to kiss her all over her face and torso, eventually sliding down to the junction of her thighs which he proceeded to explore…

For the most part her misgivings were drowned out by passion for him, and she soon pushed it out of her mind altogether, just being in the moment with him. Her laughter turned into moans of pleasure as he settled between her thighs, his tongue and fingers bringing her immense pleasure. Her release was fast and intense, having not enjoyed one in months. Kissing his way back up her body, his smile was wide and she thought a little smug.

This time he laughed. "It's been too long, Julia. Oh, how I've missed you, wife," he confessed, cradling her head on his chest, burying his face in her hair for a moment before shifting to divest himself of the rest of his clothing. Having worshiped Julia, he was ready to take his own, long delayed, pleasure. "Nothing will come between us ever again," he murmured, taking her mouth in a fervent kiss and settling his hips between her legs.

Whereas Julia had been floating in a cloud of pleasure and champagne lightness before, reality abruptly hit her squarely on the nose with those words. _But there is something between us...you can't resume relations with him if you're keeping secrets, especially that kind of secret…_ her conscience screamed at her.

Going rigid, Julia groaned and pushed at William to get him off of her, panic and guilt awakening her conscience...

William was so intent on what he was doing, his normally perceptive mind swirled by champagne and lust, he mistook Julia's moan for one of pleasure, so when she pushed against him he grabbed after her thinking he just needed to alter their position for him to enter her. He was delirious with happiness.

Finally! So close…

Then she was gone before he could understand what happened.

In her effort to get away she grabbed her dressing gown and slippers, fleeing their bedroom for the sitting room in their suite so fast she dropped one of the slippers before slamming the dividing doors shut. William heard the 'click' of the lock, then stifled sobs.

"Julia? _Julia!_ " William pounded on the door. "Julia! What is going on? Julia...answer me!" William was stunned, his desire transforming into distress.

Sobbing harder, Julia hurriedly pulled her dressing gown on, the thin silk offering no protection from the ugly truth of what could no longer be ignored.

William picked up the slipper and stared at it, his frustration leading him to shouting. "Julia, open this door right now!" He had a moment of _déjà vu_ , recalling being outside her house after she turned down his marriage proposal. When the suite's doors stayed shut, he considered breaking them down. Turning back to set the slipper aside, he found his own robe and rummaged in his valise for some of his tools. Turning back, he knelt by the crystal door knob.

"I'm sorry, William. I'm so sorry. I can't," she whimpered. "I'm so sorry."

He heard her through the door but did not respond...he was busy picking the lock. When the latch gave way, he hesitated. What awaited him on the other side?

Julia heard the lock turn, realizing that of course William had defeated the lock and took a deep breath. "Give me a moment, William, I'm not ready," she gasped in between sobs.

But she heard the doors flung open anyway.

Taking several deep breaths to calm herself, she exhaled one last time, trying to make herself feel calm enough for the discussion that was going to destroy their marriage. Hearing his footsteps, she prepared herself for the fury to come.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

 _ **Hotel de la Minerve**_

William pushed the doors open, revealing Julia sitting on the floor. As he neared, she made herself as small as she could, and curled into the corner, face turned away, as though she were afraid he would strike her.

He stood over her, wavering between panic and bewilderment. A moment ago he was going to consummate their renewed marriage and his body was pumping with adrenaline. Now to have Julia physically afraid of him was gut-wrenchingly awful. There were no words for what he felt other than...appalled.

"Julia, when have I ever raised my hand to you?" His voice and body shook.

"Never, William," she acknowledged, looking straight ahead, not making eye contact with him. "But I've never told you what I've been hiding either," she whispered.

"Hiding? What in God's Name is going on?" He approached closer, still confounded. "Julia, speak plainly. What are you talking about?"

"We can't make love ever again," she said, looking up at him. "I can't go through it again, nor would you ever forgive me," she cried.

William was sure he misheard her. " _What..?_ Why?" Julia huddled even further away from him, if that were possible. In one step he was beside her on the floor, reaching for her hands. "Julia, you are not making any sense..." He tried to be gentle. "Why can't we make love? What can't you go through again?"

"I think we conceived _before_ Miss Clark's treatments, William," she blurted out, looking at him for the first time, wanting to see the surprise register on his face. "I've done the math countless times, and it's entirely possible," she explained further, "I was not _four_ months, or sixteen weeks pregnant when we lost her…"

He blinked, uncomprehending. "You mean without the hormones..?" In a flash he found the medical reference in his memory. "Of course...One can hear a heartbeat with a stethoscope at 18 - 20 weeks. That was almost two weeks before the miscarriage." It took only another moment to do the calculations. "So...that makes conception as much as four weeks before you started Miss Clark's experiment?" He was flabbergasted.

"Yes," she nodded. "I don't know it for fact, but it's entirely possible, William. Do you realize what else that means?" she asked.

"That means you can get pregnant...?" For a moment William felt a smile on his face. "Perhaps you have conceived before but miscarried so early that we did not notice? Then Miss Clark's treatment allowed the child to develop?" William's mind worked it out instantly. "Does that also mean you think that post the hormone treatment you can not only conceive but carry a child?" he asked, but then he saw the strain on her face.

"I think it's entirely possible that we can conceive, but that's just it, William. I don't think I can carry a child...certainly not full term. It may not be God who has cursed us because of my abortion, but it is the consequences of my abortion that prevent me from carrying a child to term. Don't you see, if we make love, I possibly could get pregnant again, just to once again lose the child. I'm sorry, William, I can't go through that again...especially not repeatedly," she explained. Julia looked away so as to not see the disappointment or anger she fully expected to see on his face.

When she allowed herself to look at him again, she saw William nod in understanding of the implications. He rose and guided her to one of the lounge chairs. He rubbed his forehead then ran his fingers through his hair, thinking: _Other miscarriages…._.

"Julia...just how long have you known this?" He considered her recent behaviour in a new light, trying not to feel crushed that she would believe she had to keep such an important piece of information away from him.

"I knew something wasn't adding up about the time we disembarked in Paris. I figured it out in Nice. Of course I want to make love with you, William, I even fantasized about it on the beach, imagining that it could be the both of us out in the water," she laughed sadly.

He could not keep some of the hurt and the anger from his voice. "Why withhold that from me, Julia? All this time I believed the distance between us meant you did not trust me…and it seemed I was correct..." He couldn't choke out another word, his heart suddenly breaking.

"Why did I withhold that from you? How could I have told you, William? Everything is a sin to you! I've even thought about various contraceptive options, but they'll anger your God and we can't have that!" she spat back.

He sat there in stunned silence, not sure of what to say. "What are you talking about? What sin?" He wondered, confused at her line of thinking and how immediately angry she was. William felt as if he were back on board ship with the deck rolling underneath his feet, throwing him off balance. _Never make love to her ever again?_ He took a step back and landed in the chair opposite of his wife. _And she assumes that it must be all or nothing._..The internal war in his head roared. _Only Julia..._

"I obtained a barrier device, but I couldn't bring myself to tell you about it...I knew it would make you angry, and I don't want to hide anything from you anymore, William. Apparently, I'm damned if I do, and damned if I don't," she sighed in resignation.

He barely caught her words, since she whispered them while his head pounded. "Listen to me, Julia...I understand completely about not trying for another child...it is a shock of course that we might be able to conceive after all...but you must know that I would never risk your life for that end, nor push you so far that we might have to endure the pain of another miscarriage. I thought you believed me when I pledged that to you." He stopped to gather his thoughts.

"I want to make love with you William, I was looking forward to it all night; you're my husband and I love you. I want to physically enjoy you, but I couldn't deceive you, not again. When you said there would be nothing between us I realized I couldn't _not_ tell you about the device. Given my past deception as you see it, I was terrified you'd be so angry with me when you eventually found out...and you would have found out, William," she whispered. "Of course, I ended up withholding information from you anyway, and I am sorry, William. It has never been my intent to mislead or deceive you."

William felt his eyelashes collecting tears. _She said she loves me!_ That was all he needed to hear. "You have told me now, which is very important to me and I thank you for that. You assumed I'd be angry but why assume so?"

"Because you were so angry back in Toronto. You were furious that you thought I had helped a young woman to procure an abortion. I know your thoughts on the subject matter William and now I want to deliberately prevent the conception of your child...I was scared that you'd leave me again," she trailed off.

"I was angry, in the largest part, because I felt I had been deceived, and I left because you asked me to do so," William answered, swallowing his lingering anger.

"I asked you to leave if you believed God was punishing you, punishing us, because of my actions, and you left; therefore you agreed," she shot back.

William responded slowly, choosing each word with care, making sure his voice was calm and free from inflection. "I never said that, exactly, but, you are right, I had that irrational thought. I was angry because you did not deny that you believed our child was not really a child because she wasn't born yet. You still have not."

"I did not deny it because I never said that either _, you_ did! I told Rebecca to follow her own conscience. You were projecting and making my views on abortion about our child. William, I view abortion as sometimes necessary way out of an impossible situation. Of course I thought of Mary as our child. I've told you that Mary was different, that she was desired so," she cried, bolting up out of the chair and heading for their bedroom.

William sprang up, catching her in his arms. "Julia, stop this! That is in the past, all in the past." He waited until he could look directly into her eyes. "I am not letting you go this time, and you are not going to sacrifice our collective happiness with misguided or inaccurate information," he spoke fiercely, hoping to get through to her. "For me, love overcomes all obstacles. I love you; you say you love me. Please don't use anger as a wedge to separate us!"

When she hesitated he pulled her closer, praying she'd understand.

"I am Catholic, Julia... you are not. I will deal with my faith and my sins. I have already made my peace with that…. As for needing to prevent another pregnancy, or using contraception, I do not follow the Church blindly any more. Part of that is because of you Julia, and how much you have opened my heart and soul to different ways of thinking. Remember what I told you all those years ago? I cannot believe that love, any love, is wrong. And I love you. Furthermore, I am not personally opposed to contraception, most especially to preserve your life as well as our marriage." She sent him a skeptical glance. _What was it going to take?_ William reached back to their first discussion about trying to have a child using Miss Clark's methods.

"Do you remember when you first told me about Miss Clark's fertility treatments?" He got a small nod from her. "I said that I did not want you to do anything that would put you at risk."

Another nod.

"I told you that, 'no', it was not your wifely duty to present me a child and that I had already accepted to remain childless when I asked you to marry?"

Two nods.

Emboldened, he continued. "I told you that we would go forward only if that is what you wanted, not for me alone. You do control your own body, Julia. You believe that, and so do I. Preventing a pregnancy is up to you as much as wishing to try to get pregnant and have a child was when this all began." She was listening now, her body no longer rigid.

 _How to let her know I understand about bending to one's conscience?_ He recalled a pointed, painful conversation with Inspector Giles about how hard it is to remain incorruptible in the face of one's own conscience, and how he acted on his own conscience to violate the law. He searched for a way to convince her.

"Julia..listen to me. As for your views on abortion, we do not need to be the same, we never have been and that does not matter. That is the meaning behind St. Agnes that I wanted you to understand when we went to the _Porta Pia_. Agnes did not conform, she followed her conscience and by doing so she liberated herself from being controlled by anyone else - she was free."

William saw Julia taking that in, a startled change came over her face. "Julia I just needed to hear that you reacted in the heat of the moment - admittedly just as I did. Please make peace with me." He found her mouth with his and kissed her, waiting past her resistance, until she softened and kissed him back.

Pulling away, she looked at him directly in the eye. "Truly, William? You have no objections to my cervical cap?" she wondered.

"Yes. Truly…" He nearly giggled in relief. "I'll have you know I obtained prophylactics all those years ago in anticipation of a second 'picnic,' so my position on the matter has been the same for at least a decade."

And it was true...to have been able to have Julia Ogden had been his greatest wish, even then, almost no matter what. "And are you ready, then to make love with me, Julia, with safeguards in place?" He asked, then smiled, adding. "I believe you are in your least fertile week anyway, are you not?"

Julia furrowed her brow before laughing, shaking her head. "William, dare I ask how long you have been charting my cycle?"

"The truth is I have been aware for longer than is wise for me to tell you…" he smiled, looking at her through his eyelashes, a technique that always had a positive effect on her.

"Oh, William, it seems that I can't have any secrets from you, can I? Yet you still have quite a few that you withhold from me," she laughed in relief, shaking her head.

"I may be persuaded to tell them...another time, perhaps?" he asked, cocking his head.

"I shall count on it," she giggled, removing her robe and motioning for him to do the same. "Shall we retire, Mr. Murdoch?"

"Yes, let's go back to bed, Mrs. Murdoch," he agreed, leading her back to bed and curling up with her under the covers, closing his eyes in relief, feeling the tension drain from his body.

A while later, as he had finally relaxed enough to drift off to sleep, he felt Julia's arm slip under the sheets, taking him in her hand. Stroking him, it did not take long for him to respond and moan, but he said nothing, content for her to take the lead.

"Haven't you anything to say, William?" she asked with a giggle.

"Unhhh," he moaned again, relishing the feel of her hand around him, delighted that she was seducing him of her own accord. "I would think my wishes on this matter were perfectly clear," he replied as he laid his head back and closed his eyes, giving in to the pleasure of her ministrations.

Giggling, she flung back the covers and mounted him, positioning herself above him. "This, William?" she asked.

"Oh, yes…yes… Please…" he groaned now, struggling to maintain coherent and rational thought. He moved his hands to her hips, gripping them as though he were afraid she may leave him again.

"Then your wish is my command, William," she laughed as she guided him to her and sank down upon him, delighting in his reaction and recognizing the exact moment his brilliant mind stopped thinking in favor of submitting to his basest of desires. He ran his hands up her torso and cupped her breasts, rolling the nipples between his thumb and forefinger before his hands slid back down to her hips to anchor her to him. Angling herself to hit her favorite spot just so, she began to move, delighting in his moans before realizing that they were in concert with her own.

She had begun the encounter fully in control, but at some point, she had become overwhelmed herself, and soon her movements were increasingly erratic as her release overtook her, surprising her with its almost violent strength and without realizing it, she began to cry again. Clutching her hips harder, William thrust upwards until he achieved his own completion, and she felt his release almost as much as hers. But rather than say anything, she only sobbed harder.

William's pulse and breath were racing but he froze as soon as he realized his wife's emotional state. Alarmed, he looked into her eyes, imploring her to look back at him. She shook her head 'no' at the unspoken question as to whether or not he had hurt her, and shifting ever so slightly, he sat himself up, so he could hold her. "Julia?" he asked, concerned but unable to articulate the words.

She shook her head 'no' again, and clung to him harder, shifting herself so she could wrap her legs around his waist, digging her fingernails into his back so that he could not withdraw. Assured that she was well and wanting to maintain their physical connection, he leaned against the headboard and guided her head to his shoulder. He also clenched a handful of her hair in his fist, and tugged at it ever so slightly. She moaned in pleasure at this possessive gesture and in turn she wiggled her bottom to ensure a deeper connection.

Nothing was said as the two just clung to one another, occasionally kissing and quite content to just hold on. After a few minutes had passed, Julia loosened her grip on him and slid off of him, and he wordlessly joined her.

"We're better when we're together, Julia," he softly stated, laying a kiss in her hair.

She agreed, laying her head over his heart, feeling the warmth of his body radiating towards her, melting the last portion of her resistance.

"Yes, we are. In every sense of the word. Take me home, William. It's time to go home."

 **-END-**

 _ **Authors' Notes:**_

 **Dear Reader-** - **Thank you for coming along on the ride! We hope you like what we did with the interlude between end of Season 11 and the start of Season 12. (And did you catch the continuity error in the episodes about the # weeks Julia was pregnant?) Thank you JH for making the story better with editing suggestions - we took** _ **almost**_ **all of them. Any problems or errors are on RuthieBelle.**

 **Comments/reviews are hereby solicited, including whether or not you think we actually put this crisis between them to rest. You make a comment and we are more likely to write more! (We already have a few ideas up our sleeve!)**

 **Fallenbelle would like to thank Big Red for holding things down so she could write, and to E for "helping". Thanks also to LoveMondays for her support and encouraging my addiction. ;)**

 **RuthieGreen would like to thank "Dutch" for endless support (and for driving and driving me all over Ontario for a whole week!) and a last ditch beta-read. You are the best! I also thank Big Red for generosity of time and spirit with our MM addiction.**

 **Devotees of Wikipedia will notice evidence of minor plagiarism on my part regarding manners and protocol at turn of the century grand balls and the use of classical art to teach sexual anatomy a hundred or more years ago-rg**

 **For those who like the history aspects of** _ **Murdoch Mysteries**_ **, the depictions of the ship, buildings, clothing, historical figures, art and locations in Paris, Nice, Monaco, Florence and Rome are as accurate as we could use words to describe (for additional atmosphere - go look them up because the internet is a wonderful thing!) And for those skeptics who think we 'jumped the shark,' Sir Edgerton was indeed the ambassador to Italy at the time and married to Princess Olga, and her sister Princess Alexandra,** " _ **Fafka",**_ **lived with them until her death, after retiring as a lady-in-waiting to the Grand Duchess.**


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